Transformers: Heroic Hearts
by Tarafina
Summary: AU  All Sam wanted was a car and the girl of his dreams. He gets both; only neither are who or what he expected. :Chloe/Sam:
1. Part I

**Title**: Transformers: Heroic Hearts  
><strong>Category<strong>: Smallville/Transformers  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Humor/Action/Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Chloe Sullivan/Sam Witwicky  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Giant spoilers, violence, strong language, sexuality  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Whole chunks of the movie Transformers (2007) were rewritten here for coherence, so any of those who haven't seen the movies would be able to understand. I take no credit for any parts recognizable to the brand or the movies themselves.  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 8,712  
><strong>Summary<strong>: (AU) All Sam wanted was a car and the girl of his dreams. He gets both; only neither are who or what he expected.

**_Transformers: Heroic Hearts_**  
>-Novel-<p>

**Prologue:**

_Before time began, there was the Cube. We know not where it comes from, only that it holds the power to create worlds and fill them... with life. _

_That is how our race was born. _

_For a time, we lived in harmony. But like all great power, some wanted it for good, others for evil. And so began the war. A war that ravaged our planet until it was consumed by death._

_And the Cube... was lost to the far reaches of space. _

_We scattered across the galaxy, hoping to find it, and rebuild our home. Searching every star, every world. And just when all hope seemed lost, message of a new discovery drew us to an unknown planet called... _

_Earth._

_But we were already too late…  
><em>  
><strong>I.<strong>

**Qatar**** — The Middle East**_  
>Present Day<em>

On board the sweltering hold of a CV-22 Osprey, were a group of United States Army Rangers. Covered head to toe in fatigues, the men wore a layer of dirt across their sun-kissed skin with pride.

Jorge Figueroa, let his shaved head fall back as he sighed. "Oh, God, five months of this... Can't wait to get a little taste of home." He looked around at the others and grinned to himself. "A plate of mama's alligator étouffée..." He scrunched up his face appreciatively. "Mmm…"

Irritably, Sergeant Robert Epps, iPod in hand, pointed his finger at him. "You've been talking about barbecued 'gators and crickets for the last two weeks." He shook his head. "I'm never going to your mama's house, Fig. I promise."

"But Bobby, Bobby—"

"I'm never going to your mama's house."

Fig tried to explain, "Bobby, 'gators are known to have the most _succulent_ meat."

Unconvinced, he replied, "I understand."

Quickly and easily, Figueroa fell into Spanish to better explain the perfection of his mama's cooking.

Rolling his eyes upward, Epps sarcastically mocked him, faking his own Spanish, before demanding, "English, please. _English_."

Frowning, Captain Lennox, interrupted too, "English." He looked around at them wonderingly. "I don't— I mean, how many times have we— We don't speak Spanish." He shook his head, staring at Figueroa seriously. "I told you that."

"Why you got to ruin it for me, man?" he complained. "That's my _heritage_."

"Okay."

Fig broke out in Spanish again to prove his point.

Lennox waved a hand dismissively. "Fine. Go with the Spanish. Whatever."

Donnelly, a bespectacled Bostonian, red-haired man, interrupted them then. "Hey, you guys remember weekends?" He smacked his gum wonderingly. "Huh? The Sox at Fenway... Cold hotdog and a flat beer…

"Perfect day," Epps agreed.

Fig grinned thoughtfully before turning to Lennox. "What about you, Captain? You got a perfect day?"

He smiled to himself, shaking his head lightly. "Nah, I just can't wait to hold my baby girl for the first time."

All together, his team started mocking him. "Awww..."

"He's adorable."

"That's too—"

Brows furrowed, he told them all, "Shut up!"

…

Two Ospreys landed on the tarmac at SOCCENT Forward Operations Base, with the collective soldiers of both walking off the planes, packs thrown over their shoulders and guns in hand.

They took a pair of trucks in to base, passing by fellow soldiers. A few were lounging in plastic pools filled with water, next to a sign that read The Lagoon, while others were playing basketball or just baking in the hot sun, the buzz of chatter loud.

It wasn't long before they were joining in.

"Hey, I'm ready to do this. Hey, any of y'all grow some balls, come see me on the court, man…" Epps called out to them before grabbing up a ball and hitting their makeshift court.

His opponent, tried to block him. "Hey, hey!"

"Watch this crossover, baby. Like Jordan in his prime, pushing through the front line."

Captain Lennox took a seat elsewhere, writing on a small yellow pad.

Mahfouz, a local boy, ran up to him excitedly. "Lennox!"

Grinning, he looked up at him as he came to a stop just in front of him. "Hey," he laughed. "How you doing?"

"Water?" he offered, holding out a pack for him.

He took it appreciatively. "Oh, thank you." He tossed it over his shoulder before standing and asked, "Are you gonna help me with the gear?"

Mahfouz nodded eagerly.

…

Elsewhere on base, a radar officer caught something suspicious on his screen. "Colonel Sharp, we have an inbound unidentified infiltrator, 10 miles out."

Sharp stepped up behind him to double check, his brows furrowed. Contacting them, he quickly and sternly told them, "Unidentified aircraft, you are in restricted US military airspace. Squawk ident and proceed east out of the area…" When he received no reply and saw no change, he grabbed a radio and called up reinforcements. "Raptors one and two, snap to heading two-five-zero to intercept. Bogie is in the weeds ten miles out, not squawking."

Two F-22 jets left the tarmac in pursuit at his orders.

"Unidentified aircraft," Sharp said, "We will escort you to US SOCCENT airbase. If you do not comply, we will use deadly force…"

One of the F-22 pilot's called back to base, "Copy the bogie. Tail forty-five-hundred X-ray."

One of the officer's under Sharp stood from his station holding a paper and informed him, "Sir, says here 4500-X was shot down three months ago. Afghanistan."

Sharp took the paper and read it over in confusion. "That's got to be a mistake. Check again, then recheck."

"I did, sir," he said seriously. "A friend of mine was on that chopper."

One of the pilot's contacted the bogie, "Unidentified aircraft, we will escort you to US SOCCENT airbase," but again received no reply.

Sharp demanded, "Radar, where's the inbound?"

"Bogie's five miles out, sir."

…

Moving into a communications building, Lennox asked an officer, "My wife on?"

"Yes, captain."

Immediately, he tapped into the laptop set up in front of him, bending low to make sure his face was caught by the webcam. He grinned happily when the picture showed his smiling wife, long blonde hair falling over her shoulders, holding their daughter in her lap. "Ahahaha! My ladies!"

Sarah Lennox held the baby up and told her gently, "Look!"

The baby girl gurgled.

"Oh, my goodness. Look at her. She's getting so big. Look at those cheeks…" He waved a finger at the screen as if he could touch them. "I just wanna _chew_ on them…" He shook his head earnestly, "Babe, we made a good-looking kid. I know that people say that all the time, but... Wow, we made one good-looking kid." He pointed at her. "Nice work."

"She has your laugh."

"She laughed?" he asked excitedly.

Sarah nodded. "Her first one, yeah."

He looked wide-eyed at his daughter. "You la—" He paused and looked back at Sarah. "You sure she didn't just fart?"

"No. She's a _lady!_"

Their daughter started crying then, screwing her face up irritably.

Sarah bounced her, telling him, "She doesn't know you yet, but she will."

…

"Forty-five-hundred X," Sharp read to himself, staring at the bogie through binoculars as a mysterious MH-53 helicopter landed on the tarmac, with the sun setting behind it ominously. "Something's not right."

Meanwhile, in radar, an officer stared at his screen with wide eyes. "Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Radar's jammed." He took his hands off the keyboard and informed them, "It's coming from the chopper," before he grabbed the phone to tell Sharp.

Back in communications, the internet connection started to cut out, the picture going sideways and freezing at random.

"Will?" Sarah asked, frowning.

"Sarah?" He tried to adjust the webcam but nothing changed. "Hey, Sarah, if you can hear me, I love you and I'll be home soon." He sighed as it cut out completely and hung his head in frustration. "Damn."

Finally, he stood and left.

On the tarmac, soldiers were surrounding the bogie.

"To the right. Go to the right."

"Check fire! Get the wheels!"

Sharp watched from above and tapped into the bogie's headset once more. "MH-53 pilot, power down now... Have your crew step out or we _will _kill you."

Below, the helicopter seeming to power-down as asked. The blades atop then seemed to fold back like a fan.

A soldier called out, "Hold your fire! Stand by to engage!"

But as everything began moving and shifting, engine parts reassembling, the helicopter seemed to grow and form into something else completely, and the soldiers all began firing.

"My god," Sharp muttered in shock.

No matter how many bullets flew, it kept growing until finally it was a giant silver and black machine known as Blackout, with arms and legs made of steel, cogs, wiring and guns. And when it shot back, soldiers taking cover, the blast emanating from its cannon-like arms had an apocalyptic effect. A sonic boom leveled everything in its immediate vicinity and shattered the windows in the antenna tower.

As light began exploding nearby, Lennox was startled at the ground quaking beneath him, grunting as the force seemed to spread across the entire base.

Epps came screaming toward him. "They bombed the antenna farm!" he shouted, pointing behind him. "We're under attack!"

Walking further into base, the mechanical enemy blew up everything in sight; the force of each explosion knocking trucks into spinning bombs, rolling over men and buildings alike.

While soldiers were fleeing the fire to find a better vantage point, their enemy tore the roof off a building and reached its robotic fingers inside. He twisted the main computer server, the lines attaching to his hand and sparking.

Racing down the stairs into the room, Sharp yelled at his officers, "Go! Move! Move!" while he himself raced toward the chaos. As he came around the corner, he paused to stare up at the electronic monster before him, letting out an ear-piecing, inhuman squeal. When he bent low to avoid the influx of air and flying papers, he caught sight of the computer screen where dates and pictures were flashing one after the other at a rapid speed.

He sat down at the computer and tried to stop what he knew was happening. "It's going after the files!" He pointed. "Cut the hard lines!"

An officer struggled with the lever, using his whole body weight to try and pull it down. "I need a key! It's locked!"

Grabbing up an axe previously pinned to a wall, Sharp ran toward him. "Move! Move!" he ordered, shoving him out of the way. He quickly began severing the core's network hard lines.

In the middle of it all, Lennox ran at the front of his group, gun in front of him and Mahfouz at his back. He stopped, using his arm to keep him from running ahead. "Here, come here! Come here!" Bending low, he gathered the young boy onto his back.

Explosions rocketed all around, with tanks and armored cars being thrown across bass like missiles, destroying everything they landed on.

Lennox stopped in front of a line of tanks and shoved Mahfouz behind them for cover. "Here, hide in here!" He then hit his knees and assessed the situation.

Figueroa, at his left, muttered, "Oh, my God."

Beneath Blackout's feet was Epps, rolling out of the way as his metal foot came crashing down, close enough to nearly crush him.

"No!" Crawling away on his back, he raised his binoculars and took a look at the machine through them.

And in response, Blackout stared right back, analyzing both Epps and what he held in his hands. In reply, a gun formed in his chest and locked on the soldier.

Turning over onto his knees, he shrieked, "What the fu—!" before racing off out of the way.

Fig locked a grenade launcher on the robot and took his shot.

Thrown backwards and off balance, Blackout stumbled before eventually catching himself and shooting back at the collective group huddled together.

"Epps, let's go!" Lennox yelled as he hit the ground in front of him.

They helped him up out of the sand and ran for safety, hiding beneath the camouflage of the tanks.

From the back of Blackout, a scorpion shaped skeleton dislodged and plunged deep into the ground.

Scorponok went on in pursuit while Blackout stayed behind to continue destroying the base, soldiers dying under enemy fire.

…

**Burbank****, California**

Chloe blearily opened an eye to glare darkly at the alarm clock blaring for her attention.

"Ri-iiise and shine, we've got another hot day on the horizon with summer making itself _known!_ It's six-thirty in the am and we've got the B-52's to sing you into a smile this morning!"

_Summer of love,  
>Summer of love,<br>I've been waiting for the man,  
>Just buzzin' around<em>…

She reached over and slammed her hand down on the snooze button before rolling over onto her side and shutting her eyes tight. Her nose wrinkled when sleep was more than just elusive; dangling just there beyond her reach. The sun had crept through her window and was insistently poking at her eyelids. With a heavy sigh, she tossed her sheet back and threw her legs over the side of the bed, shoving herself up to a sitting position. Licking dry lips, she stabbed a hand through her hair, nose wrinkling when tangles knotted around her fingers and yanked against the intrusion. With a yawn that drew her jaw so wide it made a cracking sound, she dropped her feet to the floor and stood. Reaching behind her, she tugged at her shorts that had ridden up throughout her tossing and turning.

The scent of coffee wafted distantly up the stairs and she decided to put the shower on hold until she'd gotten her morning brew. Stretching her arms high above her head, Chloe left her bedroom and made her way across the hardwoods to the top of the stairs. She could hear her dad whistling and not for the first time since moving here from Smallville a couple years ago, she was glad for it. There was a stab of disappointment that she didn't have the sweet, _aw-shucks_ face of Clark Kent greeting her every day, but she knew that it was better for both her and her dad. Gabe Sullivan was still a workaholic, but at least his life wasn't in danger working for Luthorcorp and whatever seedy business angle they were using to their advantage that week. Now he had a nine-to-five job with Saturdays and Sundays to better get to know his former latchkey kid daughter.

Skipping down the stairs, she grabbed the end of the banister and used her body weight to swing herself around the corner and into the living room. Through the doorway leading into the kitchen, she could see her dad flipping flapjacks and dancing to whatever song he had in his head. With a smile, she slipped into the warm, bright kitchen space and eyed the sizzling hot pan that her breakfast was no doubt being burned in. Her dad, wonderful as he was, was no Iron Chef.

"You're up early," she said, grabbing a mug out of the cupboard.

He startled a bit at her voice, but then turned a warm smile on her. "I am." He grabbed the coffee pot out and filled her mug for her. "Was it the coffee or breakfast that got you up? Usually you sleep in until seven-thirty." He raised a brow, knowing that she'd have much rather lingered in bed. It was a good thing she had a car or she'd have a dismal attendance record.

"Coffee." She brought her mug up to her nose and inhaled the fragrant drink until it tickled her every sense into firing. Draining a long gulp, she moved to the kitchen table, hopping up so her leg was tucked beneath her. "You _might _want to keep an eye on those…" she warned, looking past him to the pan.

Grimacing, he stuck his spatula back into the trenches and flipped the burnt-on-one-side pancake. "It's Cajun-style," he told her, like he knew she was judging.

With a snort, she rolled her eyes. "Dad… It's not _spicy_, it's _burned_."

"It's _crispy_."

She clucked her tongue but smiled.

After serving them each out two, he took a seat across from her. "So? Friday! You got any plans?"

"Yes," she said unenthusiastically. "Two days of sweltering heat, no air conditioner, and a town full of people who still think I'm weird… I'm afraid weekends just aren't as appealing as they once were…"

"Well… It didn't help that you wrote that exposé on drag-racing last year… Nobody likes a snitch, honey."

She laughed. "_Dad!_ I know you're out-of-shape on the parenting speeches, but you probably shouldn't be encouraging lying!" She pointed her fork at him. "_Or_ a lifestyle of drag-racing…"

He shrugged. "I'm sorry… But if you want to get in good with the cool kids, you probably shouldn't be airing their dirty laundry."

"I don't want to get _near _the cool kids…" She rolled her eyes. "I'd just like to walk around and not feel like a _target _is on my back…"

He sawed away at his pancake with a fork and _steak-knife_; and didn't that just say it _all? _"Well, you have _Sam_," he reminded, adding more syrup in hopes it would soften his already pathetic breakfast.

She sighed, shoulders slumping. "Okay, if _anybody _needs the 'how-to-fit-in' speech, it's Sam Witwicky!" she reminded, eyes wide. "I don't want to be _cool; _freakdom has called my name and I've _answered_… But Sam would give his left arm for Mikaela Banes to just _look _at him…" Inwardly, she couldn't help but add that he'd probably wrap it in paper and put a bow on top while he bled out too.

Gabe's lips pursed and he raised his chin to stare at her a moment with fatherly concern. "Is _that _what's bothering you? That your little friend is looking at other girls?"

"_No!_" she burst out, scoffing. But she could feel her face heating him.

He poured sugar into his coffee and stirred. "He's a funny kid. Smart too… Tries to sell me something every time he comes by, but he's a good guy."

Leaning back into her seat, she exhaled heavily. "_Dad_, I don't like Sam that way, okay?" She bit her lip and used her fork to spread the syrup around on her pancakes. "I just… I wish every guy I met didn't look _past _me to the prettier, popular girl…"

First Clark with Lana, now Sam with Mikaela…

"If Sam Witwicky can't see what a catch you are, then it's _his _loss," Gabe told her, staring at her seriously. "You're funny, you're beautiful, you're the best of the best!"

Despite herself, she flushed under his praise, unable to help a smile. "Thanks." She shoved back from the table. "But like I said… Me and Sam are friends. He just… He reminds me of Clark, I guess…" She sighed, taking her half-eaten breakfast to the sink and scraping the plate clean into the garbage. "We're _just _friends… And I'm _more _than happy with that."

He eyed her knowingly. "You say so, pumpkin."

"I _do_." She started backing toward the door. "I'm gonna shower and get changed… I've still got an essay I want to re-read and maybe a tweak or two to make on my blog."

He raised his brows. "Just a tweak or two?"

"A half hour tops!"

He laughed. "Just don't hack the government… Gitmo was not meant to be our vacation home…"

Shaking her head, she chuckled. "All right, no promises…"

"Chloe…" he called after her warningly.

Skipping toward the stairs, she called back. "If a seventeen year old can hack them, dad, they _deserve _it…"

She swore she could hear him sigh in defeat. Grinning, she hurried up the stairs to finish getting ready, check her blog, and maybe, if she was bored, hack the United States Government for a few state secrets…

…

Sam Witwicky had a pop-tart in his mouth, his bag by his feet, and half of his homework spread out on the kitchen table when he heard the long impatient honk of Chloe's horn just outside his house.

"Sam!" he heard his mother shout. "Chloe's here!"

"Yeah, ma, I _hear _her!" he called back.

"If you get your car, you better not lean on the horn like that," his dad said, walking past him to the coffee pot.

"Not _if_, dad, _when_… It's in the bag!" he boasted, scooping the loose papers into his backpack and gnawing off a corner of his poptart.

"Yeah, _we'll see_," he scoffed.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Have faith, pops!" Turning, he hooked the strap of his bag over his shoulder and hurried toward the door. "Ma, I'm goin'!"

"Okay, honey, say hi to your girlfriend for me!"

He rolled his eyes. "I _told _you, Chloe's just a friend."

"Yeah, _okay_," she said, in that laughing voice of hers that said she didn't believe him.

Since Chloe hit the horn another four times in succession, he didn't have time to hang back and argue with her. "Wish me luck on my report!" he said, yanking the door open.

"You better ace it!" his dad shouted from the kitchen.

"Good lu-uuuck!" his mother sing-sang.

Shaking his head, he smiled, closing the door behind him before racing across the lawn and hopping up and over the open window of Chloe's Cadillac convertible, sliding easily into the passenger seat. With a huff that said _the door opens for a reason_, a regular argument they'd been having for over a year, she flicked her sunglasses down off her blonde hair and over her eyes.

"You need to honk so much?" he asked in greeting. "Dad was about to pop a vein over _proper driving etiquette…_"

She reached over and snagged the other half of his pop-tart before putting the car back into drive. "You need to take so long?" she returned, licking crumbs from her lips as she turned back onto the street.

"I was reading over my report again. I _need_ to ace this," he reminded. "This project means my own wheels!" He turned in his seat to face her and dramatically said, "No more bike, no more bus, no more begging my dad to drop me off somewhere—"

"No more calling me at eight in the morning and listing all the reasons I'm your favorite person so I'll pick you up when you remember it's your dad's day off," she added.

"That too," he agreed, shifting back around to face forward, grabbing his seat belt down and plugging it in. "So? You read over the copy I sent you?"

"Yup," she said, popping the 'p' at the end.

He stared at her impatiently. "_And?_"

"And my favorite part is when you tried to sell me your great-great-grandfather's glasses…" She raised a brow at him. "_Really?_"

"They're cool though, aren't they? You get the pictures I linked you? That's a prime antique you could own all to yourself, Sullivan!" he said, putting on his best car salesman's voice.

She rolled her eyes, laughing throatily. "And while I'm _sure _Grandpa Witwicky would appreciate your hardship over not having a car, I feel like he'd be just a _little _offended by you trying to sell off a piece of family history."

He scoffed, throwing his head back. "Come _on_… What's more important? Broken glasses _nobody _will ever wear or getting me a pimped-out ride to save my pathetic reputation?"

Her lips tilted in a smile. "Your grandfather was an _explorer_, Sam… One who was later called _crazy_… I don't think he would _care _about your reputation…"

"Okay, true, you make a valid point, _but_, and just hear me out here…" He held his hands up in a beseeching manner. "Why don't _you _preserve the Witwicky name by holding onto the glasses? Or, if you're feeling nostalgic, a few other heirlooms too. And _I _will make up for all the times you've driven me to school on short-notice by driving _you _to and from anywhere you want 'til graduation…" He raised his eyebrows and nodded at her enthusiastically. "Good deal, right?"

"Let's see… Flaws with your plan include, A. I have my _own _car, B. I'm not a Witwicky, and C…." She turned in her seat to smile at him mockingly. "Who says I want to spend that much time with you?"

He held a hand to his chest like he was hurt. "You wound me, Chloe, _really_… In fact, I don't think I'll ever get over the shame…" He shook his head, frowning. "Well, that's it… This is awful… How are we _ever_ supposed to talk again? I'll always remember this moment where you shot me down and stomped on all my hopes and dreams…"

She laughed. "Sam—"

"No. It's done. You've _burned _me with your acidic words." He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "We had a good run. I'll try to remember our friendship fondly. It'll be tough but I think I'll survive…"

"Uh-huh…" Brow raised, she shook her head at him. "Okay, _look_… Worse comes to worst, you don't hock your goods to the class, I'll take the glasses off your hands for twenty bucks…" She shrugged. "Call it my small contribution to your car fund."

He swiveled toward her, bargaining, "Fifty."

"Twenty."

"Forty-five."

"_Twenty_."

"C'mon! Work with me here, Chlo!" he begged. "Forty dollars, my last offer."

"Thirty-five—" She pointed at him. "_And_… I shotty front seat on your first trip around town…"

He fist-pumped happily. "Deal!"

Pulling into the school parking lot, she found a space and shifted into park. "Just do me a favor and _try _to sell it though! That's my hard-earned cash from spying on my neighbor's nephew…" She rolled her eyes. "She thinks he's stealing her pot."

He snorted, hopping out of the car and hooking his thumbs in the straps of his bag. "Wait, your neighbor hired you to put your _legendary_ sleuthing skills to work tailing her nephew because she thinks he's stealing her _illegal _marijuana…?"

She grinned. "I never said the work wasn't weird or mildly hypocritical, just that it was, _indeed, _work."

He shook his head, amused. "All right, whatever pays the bills."

She nodded shortly. "Exactly."

"Hey, dad's picking me up after school to hit the car lot, so…" He shot the guns at her, grinning when she rolled her eyes at his antics. "I'll call you when I've got my new wheels, all right?"

She raised a brow. "You still have to get an A in your class, remember…"

"Don't jinx it!" he said, waving his hands worriedly. "Knock on wood!"

She laughed. "_What _wood?"

"Find some!" he shouted after her before turning to make his way to his locker.

Ten minutes later, just as he was walking into his first class of the day, he got a text from her. _Found some wood, knocked on it – sell, sell, sell!_

A grin split his face as the bell rang.

…

Chloe bit her lip to keep from laughing as she read Sam's latest text. She'd just finished a surprise math quiz and was seriously happy that there were only a few more weeks of school left.

_Almost talked Miles into buying the sextant… Never mind what he thought it was for…_

Shaking her head, she texted him back with one hand as she stopped at her locker. _Remind me again why you're friends with him?_

She shoved her math book into her locker before beginning the search for her history books; since she _knew _she had a test that day and a free block before break, she had some extra prep time to study in the library.

Her phone buzzed with his reply and she flipped it open, ignoring the way her skin warmed. She and Sam had been friends since she moved to Burbank from Smallville. She'd been hesitant to get close to anyone considering her checkered past with trusting the wrong people, but Sam Witwicky was the persistent type and he needed her science notes at the time. They bonded over music at first and then she just generally liked his personality. He was by far the only person she knew that could make her laugh at the worst of times. But it wasn't just his sense of humor; he was also down-to-earth and genuine. He was _weird_, but she liked that, even if most others didn't. Like the didn't-know-what-she-was-missing Mikaela Banes. Not that Chloe was holding a grudge or anything; really, the popular and extremely beautiful girl had done nothing to her, but Chloe knew the type. Maybe she was a little biased, and maybe her history with Clark and Lana was coloring her point of view, or maybe she was right. It wasn't like she was going to find out any time soon… Mikaela would never give Sam the light of day and Chloe had very firmly planted herself at his side, even if it _was _in the friend zone.

Shaking her head, she focused on his text. _He's an excellent tree climber… When has that not come in handy?_

Chuckling under her breath, she walked to the library, texting back. _Right. A very important trait in a best friend. What was I thinking?_

She smiled at the librarian before taking a seat in the back, setting up at a computer station. After checking her emails, she stopped on Sam's eBay page to see if any of his family heirlooms had been sold. They hadn't and she was glad for it. Maybe it was just her own history, but she loved knowing the background of ancestors and Sam had a pretty interesting past. Like the great-great-grandfather his report was on, a famous explorer named Captain Archibald Witwicky. One of the first people to explore the Arctic Circle back in 1897, he took forty-one sailors with him straight into the arctic shelf. Not exactly a nature hike. Unfortunately, like many great geniuses of their time, he wound up going blind and crazy and locked away in a mental hospital, drawing strange symbols, babbling about a giant ice man that he thought he'd discovered. Obviously, it was just the kind of weird that was right up her alley. So while the antiques Sam was trying to hock for his car-fund weren't exactly present-time-adaptable, they were still interesting. She didn't know what she was going to do with a pair of glasses from the late 1800's, but they were cool enough just with the short story she knew, and if he ever changed his mind and wanted them back she'd make double her money. Hey, she was his friend, but fair was fair!

Three texts seemed to ring it at the same time, all from him.

_I don't know, Chlo, I'm a little worried about your mental state if that never crossed your mind…_

_And hey, if you ever wanna climb a tree to replace Miles as my best friend, I'll be there to cheer you on._

_I'll even throw stuff at him to slow him down. I'm just that kind of friend._

A laugh escaped her abruptly, but with the librarian glaring, she winced and apologized.

Closing the webpage, she gathered her things and left the computer station, moving further away from the librarian's hawk-like gaze. Spreading her books out on the table, she leaned back in her chair and texted him back. _While I appreciate the offer, I've already promised my bff bracelet to Mojo… Good luck with Miles though!_

He didn't reply right away and though disappointed, she ignored the feeling and tried to focus on her studying. Reading into her feelings for Sam could prove a little too deep for her to handle. She was seventeen and it seemed like every time she made a male friend she went and fell for them. She didn't want to deal with the fall-out of what that could mean for her and Sam. He was all she really had here and she wasn't going to risk that for a few butterflies in her stomach. Still, even though she knew she should keep her nose in her books, when her phone vibrated she grinned helplessly.

_Beat by my own dog… If he wasn't so handsome, I'd be hurt!_

_I'll forgive you this time! Obviously I just have to prove myself…_

_Me and Mojo, tree climbing contest, best two-legged human wins_.

She smothered her amusement and shook her head._ Don't beat yourself up too much. Mojo's just got a certain je ne sais quoi… Maybe if you're lucky, we'll let you hang out with us… He might even share his doggie treats if you're nice_.

The rest of the period, she made little effort to study, instead spending her time thinking up witty replies to his texts.

Was she far gone? Maybe. But she was also the _queen _of denial.

…

When Sam walked out of his last class, he was on cloud nine. So his Family Genealogy Report wasn't exactly what his teacher, Mr. Hosney, was looking for… but he was good at talking him out of the B-minus he was leaning toward so he could get the A he needed. When the bell rang, he was rubbing his hands together and racing out of the school. He knew Chloe had already taken off; finishing her history exam early, but he texted her the good news as he ran across the front lawn of his high school toward his dad's waiting car.

When he was close enough for his dad to hear, he shouted, "Yes! Yes, yes!" He tossed his bag in the backseat and then pulled the door open. While Chloe always bugged him about hopping through the window, his dad might actually _kill _him for trying.

"So?"

He sat down in the soft leather and told him, "A-minus. It's an A, though." He showed the paper to him excitedly.

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, leaning his head back and squinting his eyes. "I can't see." Finally, looking it over, he nodded, "It's an A."

"So I'm good?" he asked anxiously.

He nodded. "You're good."

Cheering, he drummed his hands against the dashboard.

"Hey! Hey!"

"Sorry," he said, wiggling in his seat and dragging on the seat belt. "I'm just happy."

"All right, well, just don't take it out on my car…" He glanced at the dash, frowning.

As they pulled out onto the street, Sam's phone buzzed and he pulled it out to read Chloe's text. He grinned at her reply. _I always believed in you… But just so you know, I lied, I never knocked on wood… Also, don't forget I called shotty!_

He snorted, plugging in a response. _By the rules of shotty your lie cancels it out, Sullivan, I'm afraid I'll have to let Miles have the front seat!_

"Who's that? Who are you calling?" his dad wondered.

"I'm not calling anybody; I'm just texting Chloe… I told her I got the A, she says she wants front seat when I pick her up tonight."

"Who said we were getting your car tonight?"

"_Dad…_" he whined, staring up at him. "You're _killin' _me… You said I was good! I held up my end of the bargain!"

"Yeah, and we never put a date and time on when we were getting your car…"

His brows furrowed, worried now. "I thought that's why you picked me up…"

"A dad can't pick up his only son from school?"

He stared at him, blinking.

Ron laughed. "All right, okay, I'm _teasing_… Let your girlfriend know you'll have a car before sundown."

He sighed, throwing his head back. "Dad, I've _told _you, Chloe's _not_—"

"Why?" he cut him off, turning to stare at him at a red light. "Gimme one good reason that girl isn't your girlfriend." His eyes widened. "You'd be _lucky _to have a girl like that date you."

Groaning, he shook his head. "No, okay, look, _yes_, Chloe is _awesome_… And _yes_, I'd be lucky to date her." He nodded. "But we…" His eyes darted away. "We just don't…" He frowned. "And she…"

Okay, so the only real reason he had for why him and Chloe weren't dating…?

Mikaela Banes.

Yeah, right, so she was the hottest and most popular girl in the school… And she'd never talked to him. But now he was gonna have a car, _freedom_, and he was going to make his move. He _was!_ Just as soon as he got the opening…

"Yeah, sure, great answer," his dad snorted, shaking his head. "You're my son and I love you, but you're making a big mistake on this one."

Sam decided to ignore him, instead opening his phone when her text buzzed back to him.

_My shotty and my lie weren't directly linked, Mister Witwicky. By the laws of shotty, of which I'm an expert, I'm completely not liable for any loss of grade should I have not knocked on wood…_

_And given you got your grade, I could argue that by not knocking I actually helped you!_

He bit his tongue, laughing. _All right, all right, since you're throwing the book of shotty at me… I'll see you tonight!_

His dad was looking at him with that knowing expression on his face, but instead of arguing the merits of dating Chloe again, he instead told him, "I got a little surprise for you, son." He slowed down then and started turning right.

"What kind of sur—" He cut himself off as he looked up and saw the sign for the Porsche car lot. "_No_. No, no, no, no!" he cried excitedly. "_Dad!_ Oh, you gotta be kidding me!"

Ron Witwicky grinned at him, amused. "Yeah. I am. You're not getting a Porsche," he laughed, driving straight on through.

Frowning, Sam glared out disappointedly and then looked over at him. "You think that's funny?"

"Yeah, I think it's funny."

His dad pulled out onto the road again and headed for a used car lot.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You think I'd really get you a Porsche?" he asked incredulously. "For your _first car?_"

"I don't want to talk to you for the rest of this whole thing," he grumbled, scowling as they passed a cheesy clown holding an arrow sign pointed at the used cars.

"Oh, come on. It's just a practical joke," Ron said, chuckling.

"It's not a funny joke."

Ron pulled over, parking by Bobby B's Used Cars and they started the search for Sam's first car.

…

Chloe sat on the porch of her house with a glass of sweating lemonade balanced on the arm of the chair-swing. Sam had already texted to let her know he got his car and he'd be over within the hour; if she took a little time to dress up, it was only because the heat had her sweating and her clothes from school felt sticky… Never mind the fact that she'd done her hair and put on a little make-up. It was technically the first night of summer, even if school was still on for another month, and she wanted to do something fun. Since Sam had his new car, she figured they'd be out until curfew just driving around. It wasn't exactly _exciting _but then again, she was used to the meteor-freak of the week back in Smallville. These last two years had been a nice change from she was used to. Sure, sometimes she missed the adrenaline and mystery, but she'd finally found evidence that her neighbor was right, her nephew _was _filching her pot off her, so that was one case off her hands. It wasn't exactly mind-blowing and there certainly wouldn't be any big name newspapers knocking down her door to get her on their staff, but she'd make her way there eventually. She still had one more year of high school left and then she'd be heading to the city for college and eventually she would get a job as an investigative journalist. It was all in the plan!

But plans had a way of changing. Like how originally she'd always thought she would live out high school in Smallville before moving to Metropolis, getting an internship at The Daily Planet, and eventually settling into city life there. Hopefully with Clark Kent at her side, at whatever capacity that might be. Her feelings for the nice farmboy had long passed, however. Two years of only occasionally talking to him, the majority of that conversation touching on his feelings for Lana Lang, as usual, and she'd grown out of the crush she'd had on him once upon a time. She wasn't the fifteen year old girl who would do anything for him to look at her anymore that left Smallville with her heart broken. No, instead she was a seventeen year old girl on the verge of being a woman, avoiding the fact that whenever goofy good-guy Sam Witwicky so much as _texted _her she felt like her entire _body _vibrated with excitement.

Maybe there was a condition called _falls-for-boys-who-want-pretty-and-perfect_ and she was a carrier…

Sighing, she took a long drag of her lemonade and swung her legs back and forth beneath her seat. Sidekick was in her nature and she knew that if Sam somehow got the attention of Mikaela she would support him. It was just who she was. She'd paste on a smile and give him a thumbs up, even if on the inside she was crumbling. She just wished she'd stop getting stuck in these repetitive cycles. With a groan, she threw her head back and promised herself that she would _stop _feeling this way. She would give up on Sam and she would either focus on her future or find somebody else, without the ability to break her heart, to put all of her attention on…

Maybe if Miles managed not to climb anything in the near future, she could convince herself he was her summer-before-senior-year fling…

…

**Washington****, D.C.**

_Pentagon_**  
><strong>  
>John Keller stepped into the back room, shrouded by a curtain from the rest of the conference area and noted a familiar face as a man approached him.<p>

"Steve," he greeted, shaking his hand.

"Hello, Mr. Secretary."

He turned a grim expression on the packed seats. "They're so young…"

An officer at his left replied, "They're the top subject matter experts, sir. NSA's recruiting right out of high school these days."

Sitting in wait, an analyst leaned forward, his eyes wide. "Guys… That's the Secretary of Defense!"

"I am _so _underdressed," a shaggy-haired male next to him muttered.

Steven stepped forward then and called for their attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Secretary of Defense."

As everyone stood in recognition of him, Keller circled around to stand at the center. "Please be seated. I'm John Keller." He looked around at the many faces staring back. "Obviously, you're wondering why you're here, so, these are the facts… At 1900 local time yesterday, the SOCCENT Forward Operations Base in Qatar was attacked… So far as we know, there were _no _survivors. The objective of the attack was to hack our military network…" His eyes surveyed them starkly. "We're not sure exactly what they're after, but we do know that they were cut off during the assault, which would lead us to assume that they're going to try it _again_… Now, no one's taken responsibility for the attack. And the only real lead we have, so far… is this sound." He pointed to a screen behind him where the voice pattern was shown and played for them.

The screeching electronic recording had the room staring in befuddled surprise and confusion.

Keller crossed his arms in front of his waist and frowned. "That's the signal that hacked our network... NSA's working at full capacity to analyze it and intercept further communications but we need your help to find out who did this!" He waved an arm meaningfully. "Now, you've all shown considerable ability in the area of signals analysis…" He frowned grimly. "We're on a hair-trigger here, people. The President has dispatched battle groups to the Persian Gulf and Yellow Sea. This is as real as it's ever gonna get. Now I'm gonna leave you to your officer-in-charge. You'll break up into teams and you'll start your work…" He lifted his chin and gave a short nod. "Good luck… To us all."

…

**Burbank****, California**

"All right, Mojo," Sam called, twirling his new car keys around his finger as he entered his room. "I got the car. Now I need the girl." He made his way to his computer, taking a seat and typing in his eBay link. "I need money to _take out _the girl is what I need," he muttered to himself. "Zero bids." He exhaled disappointedly. "Great. Broke."

Mojo barked at him, lying on a chair with his broken leg wrapped in a small white cast.

"No, you're right… Chloe said she'd gimme thirty-five for great-great-gramps' glasses…" He chewed his lower lip. "It's not much, but it'll get me somewhere…"

Tucking his pen in his mouth, he stood from his chair and walked toward his bathroom. "Come on, Mojo, you want your pain pills?"

Yapping, he struggled to get off his chair.

Checking himself out in the mirror, Sam practiced what he'd say to Mikaela and then sprayed his mouth for fresher breath. Finally, he grabbed out Mojo's pain meds and walked back to his room to take a seat at his desk. "It's like clockwork. All right, I know you get wasted on these things, but if you piss in my bed again, you're sleeping outside. Okay?" He held the pill out for him to take and fed it into his mouth. While the Chihuahua chewed away, he held up a finger, "That's it for today. No more. _Crackhead_."

Making his way downstairs, he brought Mojo down with him and then left for the backyard, where his parents were fixing up the yard. Mojo ran off across the yard while he Sam crossed the back porch, wiggling his car keys at his parents and laughing excitedly. Hopping down onto the grass, he started toward the back driveway.

Ron sat up from his hunched position and sighed. "Ah, Sam..."

He stopped, confused. "What?"

"I do not like footprints on my grass." He threw his spade down into the lawn.

Sam looked down at the grass. "What foot— There's no footprints!"

His dad motioned toward the path leading from the stairs. "That's why I built my path. So why don't you go from my grass onto my path, okay?" he asked irritably.

Moving to the laid down cement blocks, he told him, "It's _family_ grass, Dad."

He nodded sarcastically. "Well, when you own your own grass, you'll understand."

Crossing to his mom when he saw Mojo hanging out in his doggy penthouse, he sternly told her, "This, this, I can't do it anymore."

Judy smiled at him. "What?"

He motioned to the dog lying lazily on the porch of his tiny dog house. "You're putting girl jewelry on a boy dog. He's got enough self-esteem issues as a Chihuahua, Mom."

"That's his _bling_..." she explained cheerfully.

He rolled his eyes and continued toward the driveway, flicking his keys back and forth. Just as he was pulling the door open, the hinges whining, he heard his mom shout after him, "I want you home at eleven o'clock!"

He slipped into the driver's seat and replied, "Yeah, all right."

His dad reiterated, "Eleven o'clock!"

Pleading, his mother said, "Please, for the love of God, drive safely."

As he turned the ignition, a cloud of black smoke left the tail pipe.

His mom gasped.

"Seat belt on!" his dad ordered.

He rolled his eyes, plugging the belt in.

Pulling out, the cloud crept across the lawn while he took off toward Chloe's house.

The drive was short, ten minutes at best, but he enjoyed every second of it. His smile was so wide it almost hurt. He had his own car! "Whoo!" he yelled, throwing his arm out the window. It was worth all the work he put in to get it. Sure, it needed a new coat of paint… and maybe a tune-up or six, but it was _his!_

When he pulled up outside of Chloe's house, he was like a proud father, honking the horn and leaning out the window.

It was only a few minutes before she skipped out the front door and down the front steps in sandals, a pink tanktop, and cut-off jean shorts. His eyes widened a little. _Wow_. He wasn't expecting that.

Don't get him wrong, he knew Chloe was hot. Sometimes, he chose to pretend she wasn't to keep his sanity, or his tongue from rolling out of his head, but it was times like these where that seemed impossible. She walked toward him with a wide grin and her hips swaying seductively. His head tipped, taking in every attractive inch. And when his throat went so dry it burned, he blinked wildly and tried to focus on her face instead of the deceptively long legs on display.

Clearing his throat, he held out an arm and said, "Well?"

She grinned, her eyes wandering across his car. "It's… _Unique_."

"Right!" He clapped his hands happily. "Dream come true, Chloe. Miracles happen!"

Chuckling at his enthusiasm, she walked around the front of the car, letting her hand trail over the hood. "Camaro? Very nice."

The engine revved.

Circling, she hopped into the passenger seat and reached for the seat belt. "Well? Show me what this baby can do?"

He grinned, but before he could put the car into drive, his eyes were suddenly stuck on her creamy, bare thighs. Mind completely blank, his hands tightened around the steering wheel.

Startling him, the radio roared to life and suddenly started playing.

_You are so beautiful to me…  
><em>_Can't you see…?  
>You're everything I hoped for,<br>You're everything I need…  
>You are so beautiful to me<em>...

Sam's eyes widened and he reached over to hit the radio face with his fist. "What the—?"

Chloe laughed good-naturedly. "Joe Cocker, Sam…? I didn't think you were a fan."

He laughed awkwardly, shaking his head and glaring down at the radio face before shoving the stick into drive. "I'm not… Car's got a radio problem."

"Hey!" She held her hands up in surrender. "If he wants to serenade me, I'm not complaining."

Sam grinned, raising a brow. "_He?_ Really?

She nodded, looking it over. "Looks like a 'he' to me."

"Yeah?" he snorted. "You wanna name him?"

She raised a brow. "You'd let me name your car?"

He shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

"Maybe because you'll have him for who knows how long and I could name him something _awful!_" She shook her head wisely. "Never just hand the power over, Sam. I might look nice, but I have a devious and creative side to me that would scare you."

"Yeah?" He smirked, nodding at her. "Give me a few examples."

She inhaled deeply, tapping her chin. "Well, there's the obvious… I could give him a _girl's _name… Something really feminine like… _Francesca_ or… _Sylvia_."

He frowned. "Okay, so no girls names… Try again."

"What about something like _Baxter _or _Bartholomew?_" Her eyes flashed teasingly.

He licked his lips. "All right, I'm just gonna have to break it to you… You suck at picking names." He shrugged. "I'm sorry. It had to be done."

She laughed. "Why not let him show us what he's got and _then _I pick a name?" She leaned back in her seat and jutted her chin forward. "Drive on, Witwicky!"

With a smirk, he put his car into gear and took off roaring down the road.

And even Chloe, despite making fun of his new ride just a tad, couldn't help but laugh gleefully as they cruised along the streets, en route to pick up Miles.

Excited about his new freedom and filled with adrenaline each time he took a turn, Sam looked at the girl in his passenger seat, smiling brightly back at him, the wind kicking up her riotous blonde hair, and knew he couldn't ask for a better person to be right there with him for this first time experience.

[**Next**: Part II.]


	2. Part II

**Title**: Transformers: Heroic Hearts  
><strong>Category<strong>: Smallville/Transformers  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Humor/Action/Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Chloe Sullivan/Sam Witwicky  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Giant spoilers, violence, strong language, sexuality  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Whole chunks of the movie Transformers (2007) were rewritten here for coherence, so any of those who haven't seen the movies would be able to understand. I take no credit for any parts recognizable to the brand or the movies themselves.  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 8,472  
><strong>Summary<strong>: (AU) All Sam wanted was a car and the girl of his dreams. He gets both; only neither are who or what he expected.

**_Transformers: Heroic Hearts_**  
>-Novel-<p>

**II.**

Sarah Lennox watched in shock as the Secretary of Defense, John Keller, addressed the nation. "_At this time, we can't confirm whether there were any survivors_…"

She braced herself on the kitchen counter. "Oh, my God."

"_Our bases worldwide are, as of now, at DEFCON Delta, our highest readiness level_."

Bottle in hand, she sat down and stared at the TV with wide, glazed eyes.

"_We're dealing with a very effective weapons system that we have not come across before. But our prayers are with the families of the brave men and women_—"

Tears wetting her cheeks, Sarah turned to her daughter, sitting in her high chair. "Honey…" she murmured.

Her daughter cried; face scrunching up as though she understood.

"Daddy's gonna be okay…" she promised.

…

**Qatar**

Surrounding a tank, Lennox's team was gathered together, guns at the ready, eyes constantly scanning for movement.

"I've never seen a weapons system like this," Epps said, looking down at his binoculars, replaying the scene he'd caught while trapped beneath the enemy. "The thermal shows this weird aura around the exoskeleton like it's cloaked by some kind of invisible force field…"

Lennox walked over to take it and give it a look himself.

"That's impossible," Donnelly scoffed. "There's no such thing as invisible force fields except in, like, comic book stuff, right?

"Man, I don't know…" Figueroa worried.

Lennox wrapped his hands around the edges of the binoculars so he could see the pictures better. "What is that?" he muttered to himself.

"My mama, she had the gift, you know?" Fig played with his cross necklace, staring out across the sandy hills, eyes narrowed. "She saw things. I got the gene, too, you know. And that thing that attacked us…?"

Lennox looked at him curiously.

"I got a feeling it ain't over."

In the distance, unseen, something stirred beneath the sand.

"How about you use those magic voodoo powers and get us the hell out of here, huh?" Donnelly asked somewhat mockingly.

Epps stared at the ground thoughtfully. "When I took that picture…" He shook his head, brows furrowed. "I think it saw me."

Lennox, Figueroa and Donnelly stared back at him grimly.

"It looked right at me."

Lennox held up the camera-binoculars and told them, "All right, we gotta get this thing back to the Pentagon right away… They gotta know what we're dealing with here."

From afar, Scorponok zeroed in on them and was able to hear what they were saying.

"My radio's fried," Epps informed the others. "I got no communication with aerial!"

"Hey, Mahfouz. How far do you live from here?" Lennox asked.

"Not far," he said, pointing. "Just up that mountain."

His brows knotted questioningly. "Do they have a phone?"

"Yes."

"All right, let's hit it."

…

**Burbank****, California**

"Totally not fair," Miles complained, for the third time since he'd been picked up.

"Miles, _seriously_, give it up… We're almost there anyway," Sam told him, glancing back through the mirror.

He frowned. "How long have we known each other and you still let a _girl _get between us?" He shook his head.

"This is not any girl, okay?" He stared at him seriously. "Chloe is special."

"Extremely," she agreed, nodding.

"She's wise in the ways of shotty, my friend…" He shrugged. "You've gotta be quicker than this…"

"I shottied front seat in third grade!" he argued. "When we talked about what kinda cars we were gonna get when we were older and you said yours would be a hovercraft!"

Sam looked over at Chloe. "He's right... I forgot about that."

Sighing, she rolled her eyes, turning around in her seat to face him. "All right, Miles… How about this? We play Rock, Paper, Scissors and two out of three wins!"

He considered it, eyes narrowed, lips quirked. "Okay…" He held his fist out. "On three."

Chloe grinned.

He won the first round, his paper covering her rock.

She won the second with her rock crushing his scissors.

On the third one, however, he threw out something completely else.

She blinked. "What is _that?_"

He shrugged. "Water."

"I feel like I'll probably regret this, but…" She sighed. "_Explain_."

Miles grinned. "Water rusts scissors, erodes rock and turns paper to mush…" He nodded. "I win."

"No…" She looked back at Sam and then to Miles again. "No, the game was Rock, Paper, Scissors. That's _three _options! There was no make-it-up-as-you-go part!" She frowned back at Sam. "I demand a recount!"

He grinned. "She's right, Miles… No water."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, then I think this is all rigged and refuse to play on principle."

Chloe scoffed, turning back around. "Keep your deluded principles and I'll keep my shotgun!" She smirked. "And since you technically tried to cheat, I request that I get any future shotgun that I so desire!"

"Wait, can she do that?" He sat forward and gripped Sam's seat. "Sam? Can she?"

He chuckled. "I don—Sure. Yes. You cheated, she caught you, she gets to ride shotgun whenever she wants…"

"Man…" He sat back and pouted.

"But since she has her _own_ car, I wouldn't get too worried, all right buddy?" he encouraged, smiling.

Miles shrugged disappointedly.

Chloe rolled her eyes in good-natured amusement.

They were soon distracted when they came around a bend and Miles noticed the people milling ahead. "Dude, are you _sure _we're invited to this party?"

She raised an eyebrow at Sam too.

"Of course, Miles," he scoffed. "It's a _lake_. Public property."

Her lips pursed to keep in her argument.

"What?" He looked from the road to her and then back again. "You disagree?"

Her eyebrows hiked. "I didn't say anything."

"No, but you're making that face." He waved a hand at his own and frowned. "It's your this-is-going-to-end-_badly_ face…"

"Do I have one of those?" She snorted. "You give my face a lot of credit."

He shook his head. "No, no, no… You don't get to change the subject with all your witty snark… What's up? You don't think we should stop in? Say hello? Show off my new ride and play nice with the locals? That it?" He looked over at her wonderingly. "Because if you say the word, we'll go back. Go ahead. Say it. I won't take it personally… Just a really big chance here, y'know? Could be the only chance I get to show Mikaela what she's missing out on, right?"

Rolling her eyes to herself, she half-smiled at him. "If she hasn't already figured it out, we're gonna have to put it up in neon lights and shove it in her face…"

He slowed the car down and pulled up to the curb, turning in his seat to frown at her. "That sounded catty." He looked back at Miles. "Was that catty?" He tipped his head at Chloe. "What's up? What's going on? I thought you wanted to hang out tonight?"

"I do." She reached for the door handle. "But for some bizarre reason I was under the impression that we wouldn't be seeking the approval of our thick-headed peers." She shrugged mockingly. "My bad." Shoving the door open, she climbed out, hooking her bag over her shoulder.

Sam hopped out the other side. "You're mad…" He shook his head. "It's a hot night, we're at the lake, _what's _the problem?"

She turned around to face him and for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to tell him that _he _was the problem. Or _Mikaela _was the problem. But looking at his confused face, her shoulders fell. Because it wasn't him or his _dream _girl. It was her. It was Chloe. Just like it _always _was. For just a moment she let herself think that maybe it would just be him and her, and possibly Miles, cruising around in his new car, without the added pain of having to see him try and get another girl's attention. "Nothing. Just… Never mind." Not waiting for him to reply, she turned on her heel and walked off.

"Chloe!" he called after her. When she didn't turn back, he sighed, frowning.

Miles hopped out and looked over at him, shrugging. "Women, right?"

He blinked, shaking his head. "Miles, _what _do you know about _women?_"

His brows furrowed, eyes falling. "They're complicated…?" he said, more wonderingly than anything.

"Okay, but Chloe's different!" Sam reminded, shaking his head. "Like there are women and complications and head games—" He held up one hand. "—and then there's _Chloe_…" He held another a few inches higher. "And Chloe is _un_complicated, right? She's—She's just…" He shook his second hand meaningfully. "_Chloe_."

Miles blinked at him. "I don't know, man… Women are women, y'know?"

Sam frowned at him. "Whatever. Just…" He trailed off, noticing a familiar face up ahead. "Oh my god… Oh my god, dude, Mikaela's here," he said, readjusting his shirt. Licking his lips, he glanced down at himself and then over at Miles. "Just don't do anything weird, all right?" He started walking around the car and looked at him again, shifting his feet uncomfortably. "I'm good, right?"

Miles nodded. "Yeah, you're good." He patted him on the back as they met up and started walking across the grass.

"Okay."

Blond, football jock, Trent DeMarco was tossing a football in the air when he spotted them and threw it off in the distance before smirking to himself. "Hey guys, check it out…" As he leaned against the front of his truck, Mikaela came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest and smiling as her chin found his shoulder. Looking back at Sam, he called out, "Hey _bro_… That car. It's nice."

Sam's smile became forced, feeling the tension in the air and his steps slowed.

Miles tossed his sweater down and went for the nearest tree, immediately beginning to climb it.

"Hey…" Trent circled around from his truck to face Sam. "So, what are you guys doing here?"

Sam raised his eyebrows and then motioned to his right. "We're here to climb this tree…" He nodded, before turning his head back to look up at his friend's progress and silently wishing he'd given his plan a little more thought.

"I—I see that. It looks—It looks fun."

"Yeah."

Trent motioned to him with his arm. "You know, I thought I recognized you. You tried out for the football team last year, right?"

Sam's eyes turned off as he remembered being flattened by four giants at tryouts and having the coach lift him up by his gear while coming to the conclusion he'd have to have his mom come and get him.

He also remembered Chloe bringing him ice packs and Tylenol.

To Trent, he said, "Oh, no, no, no, that—" He shook his head, grinning humorlessly. "No. That wasn't like a… _real _tryout. I was researching a book I was writing."

"Oh, yeah?" he scoffed, unconvinced.

Miles looked between them, hanging upside down from a tree branch.

"Yeah? What's it about?" Trent smirked knowingly. "Sucking at sports."

"Haha," Sam muttered, unamused. "No, it's about the link between brain damage and football…" He nodded, eyes narrowed. "No, it's a— It's a good book. Your— Your friends'll love it." He motioned to the gathered jocks. "You know, it's got mazes in it and, you know, little coloring areas, sections, _pop-up pictures_." His eyes widened with faux excitement. "It's a lot of fun."

"That's funny," Trent muttered, taking a step toward him threateningly.

"He has his moments," Chloe's voice interrupted as she sidled up to the group. She stood next to Sam supportively and raised a brow at Trent. "You might want to reign in your poodle, Mikaela, if he gets one more mark on his record for fighting, coach won't let him gear up next year and lead the team to another disappointing season…" She put her hands on her hips and sighed mockingly, "And then what would I have to make fun of in my sports column?"

Trent's jaw ticked as his eyes narrowed in on her.

"Okay, okay." Mikaela got between the two boys and put her hands to Trent's waist. "You know what? _Stop_."

Obeying, he took a step back and turned around to his friends. "Hey, guys, I know of a party," he called out. "Let's go, let's head."

Sam looked up at Miles irritably. "You got to get out of the tree right now," he told him.

Miles looked confusedly from him to the retreating jocks.

"Get—Just get out of the tree right now, please," he growled.

Miles flipped himself sideways and down, landing perfectly on his feet.

Sam glared. "What are you doing?" He started back toward his car.

He grinned. "Did you see that dismount? All the chicks were watching…"

"You're making me look like an idiot." He grabbed up Miles' sweater and threw it at him. "We both looked like idiots just now."

"No arguments here," Chloe agreed, walking in sync with them.

"And you! Where were you?" He looked over at her searchingly. "You leave me here with Goofy McTreeClimber and just _wander _off?"

She raised a brow at him, her lips pursed. "What happened to 'it's hot and we're at a _lake_'?" she scoffed. "I was at the water…" She shrugged. "As if I knew you were going to pick a fight with Mikaela's Meathead."

"All I'm saying is… It would've been nice to have back-up before Trent started acting like a jerk…" He shrugged, eyes wide. "I didn't think that was too much to ask… I mean, I'm just looking at the fruition of my whole life's infatuation, y'know?" He threw his hands up. "Maybe it's me, I dunno. If I'm wrong, tell me I'm wrong, but I'm not. I'm not wrong."

She blinked at him. "You're an idiot," she said. Not waiting for an answer, she walked past him to his car.

"What—What's with the _attitude_ tonight?" he muttered, following after her.

Back at the truck, Mikaela turned around to smile at Trent and suggested, "Hey, how about you let _me _drive?"

"Oh, no. No, no, no." He shook his head. "This is not a toy. These twenty-twos…" He motioned to his rims meaningfully. "I don't want you grinding them." Brows furrowed, he shook his head seriously. "_No_." Smiling, he said condescendingly, "Why doesn't my little bunny just hop in the back seat?"

"_Oh_," she scoffed, ducking her head. "Oh God, I can't even _tell _you how much I'm _not _your little bunny…" She pushed at his chest as she shoved past him to walk away.

Okay…" he said dismissively. He shook his head with false bravado. "You'll call me."

As Miles hopped in the back of the Camaro, Chloe took a seat in the passenger's side and rested her elbow against the window. Against her better judgment, her eyes wandered over to Sam, who was muttering to himself, no doubt going over everything that was said and hoping he was witty enough for his precious Mikaela. She rolled her eyes.

Her brows furrowed when the radio roared to life, Queen pumping out at her meaningfully.

_Ooh, you're the best friend that I ever had,  
>I've been with you such a long time,<br>You're my sunshine and I want you to know,  
>That my feelings are true,<br>I really love you,  
>Oh you're my best friend…<em>

Sam paused just outside the car, and for a moment, her heart sped up. Could he hear that? Was he reading into it? Was this the epiphany she always told herself she wasn't _hoping _he'd have?

But no. She saw his gaze centered far off, on Mikaela walking down the street, hips swaying.

She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath, gathering her courage and the last of her self-sacrificing nature. Finally, she shoved the door open and climbed out before flicking the car seat forward.

"What's happening?" Miles wondered, leaning forward. "Are you letting me have shotty?"

"Not even close," she muttered. "We're letting Romeo here catch up to his very own Juliet…" She motioned for him to get out with her thumb. "C'mon, Goofy… We'll find you a nice tree to occupy yourself with while I find us a ride home…"

"What?" Miles hopped out of the back. "She's an evil jock concubine, man!" He turned to look at Sam incredulously. "Let her hitchhike!"

Sam shook his head. "She lives 10 miles from here, okay? It's my only chance." He stared at him, his brows hiked. "You gotta be understanding here, all right?"

"All right. She can hang in the back with Chloe. Make girl talk." He motioned behind himself with his thumb. "I'll be quiet."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Don't be an idiot, Miles."

Sam threw his hand out to point at her meaningfully. "See! Chloe gets it!"

"C'mon, man!" Miles' shoulders slumped. "This is a party foul!"

"What rules?"

"Bros before hoes!"

Sam shook his head. "No, no, because you tried that with Chloe and she _still _got shotgun! So, y'know, that's just—It's an invalid argument and that's it." He threw his hands up apologetically. "Okay? So, you gotta go." He nodded his over to him and then climbed in the car. "Shut the door, Miles."

With a sigh, Chloe pulled him out of the way and closed the door. "Let's go… You're not going to talk him out of this…"

Sam waved at them vaguely before peeling away from the curb and taking off after Mikaela.

The radio switched stations.

_If you're lookin' for love,  
>You're lookin' too hard,<br>You can't see that what you need,  
>Is right in your back yard,<br>You were blinded by diamonds,  
>And you missed a pearl,<br>Yeah, you got the wrong girl…_

His brows furrowed as he glanced down at the radio, but then caught sight of Mikaela and her long tanned legs.

"Mikaela!" he shouted, swerving his car around her and slowing down.

She turned to look at him, stone-faced, and didn't stop.

"It's Sam!" he told her, inching along the road next to her. When he got nothing, he tried, "Witwicky!"

She rolled her eyes away.

He leaned over and looked up at her through the passenger window. "I hope I didn't get you stranded or anything…"

She kept walking.

"You sure?" Nothing. "So, listen, I was wondering if I could ride you home." He shook his head as he realized what he'd said and babbled, "I mean, uh, give you a ride home, in my car, to your house."

She stopped, chewing her lip thoughtfully.

He reached across to push the door open for her. "There you go."

She climbed inside and he cleared his throat, looking from her to the road.

When she was strapped in under her seat belt, he pressed down on the accelerator and got them moving.

"So… uh…" He drummed his fingers over the steering wheel.

"I can't believe that I'm here right now," she muttered, shaking her head as she stared out the window.

He looked from her, out the back window, and back before finally telling her rather disappointedly, "You can duck down if you want. I mean, it won't hurt my feelings."

She smiled apologetically and shook her head. "Oh, no, no, no. I didn't mean— I didn't mean here with _you_. I just meant here, like, in this situation…"

"Oh." He licked his lip, nodding, but all he could think was this was the situation he'd always wanted. Them, alone. The girl of his dreams, _talking _to him, _confiding _in him… Today was turning out to be the best damn day of his life!

"This same situation that I'm always in." She sighed, shaking her head. "'Cause, I don't know, I guess I just have a weakness for _hot_ guys, for— for _tight _abs an-and really big arms." She frowned to herself.

"Big arms?" He looked from her to his own arm and started flexing painfully hard as he motioned to each, telling her, "Well, uh, there's a couple new additions in the car... Like, I just put in that light there. And that disco ball. And so the light reflects off the disco ball."

"Oh… Huh." She nodded, unimpressed.

He gave up and turned his eyes back out to the road. "Yeah." He played with his collar and then looked around, unsure where to go from there, searching desperately for a topic point.

She turned to look at him, smiling with her eyebrows hiked. "Are you... Are you new to school? This year? This your first year?" Her voice was overly nice, like she was addressing a small child, possibly with a learning disorder. But he tried not to take that too personally… and failed.

"Oh, no. No." He turned to look at her, motioning between them. "Uh, we've been in the same school since first grade…" His brows furrowed as he felt disappointment welling up inside him. He knew he wasn't exactly on her radar; he'd been trying since grade three and had little success, but he didn't know he was so far down the food chain she didn't even know he existed until then…

"Really?" she asked, face screwed up in surprise.

"Yeah."

"No…"

"Yeah," he laughed hollowly, rubbing his neck, "a long time."

She stared at him. "Well, do— Do we have any classes together?"

"Oh. Yeah, yeah." He nodded, squeezing the steering wheel as his good mood faltered more and more.

"Really? Which?"

"History. Language arts." He licked his lips. "Math. Science."

"Sam!" she exclaimed, eyes widening with her epiphany.

"Sam." He smiled slightly, but couldn't say he was feeling too hopeful. "Yeah."

She raised her chin, proud that she'd figured it out. "Sam Wilkicky."

"Wit-wicky," he pronounced, nodding slowly, face falling.

"God, you know what? I'm so sorry. I just—"

"No, it's cool," he dismissed, scratching his nose.

She smiled apologetically. "I just didn't recognize you."

"Yeah, well, I mean, that's understandable..."

She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. "Chloe! That girl from before, that told off Trent…" She nodded, smiling. "She writes for the paper and _you_, you're her boyfriend!"

He frowned. "Best friend. I—I'm her best friend."

"Oh." Her brows furrowed. "Really?"

"Yeah. Friends, just—Just friends." He waved it off, clearing his throat as he shifted in his seat. "Totally platonic."

She nodded slowly, ducking her head a little.

Suddenly the car started sputtering, the key turning to the off position.

As the car rolled to a stop, the radio kicked into a punk song.

_I've seen her type before,  
>Don't wanna see her anymore<br>You gotta leave her behind,  
>And find another girl...<em>

Sam groaned shaking his head. "Sorry, I'm just working out the kinks. You know, it's a new car…"

_You know she'll only bring you hurt,  
>Make you feel like a jerk…<em>

"Oh. This radio is, like, you know— It's an old radio, too, so—"

She nodded, before reaching back to tie her hair up, looking completely unimpressed.

"What—Where—Where are you going?" he wondered as she shoved the door open.

"Just pop the hood," she told him, circling to the front of the car.

_Find another girl_, crooned the radio.

"Okay, yeah, I'll…" He reached down and pulled the lever.

Lifting the hood up, Mikaela stared down at the immaculate condition of the engine in surprise. "Whoa, nice headers… You've got a high-rise double-pump carburetor. That's…" She nodded. "That's pretty impressive, Sam."

Climbing out to see for himself, he rested his arms on the side as he took a look inside and asked, "Double-pump?"

She smiled faintly and explained, "It squirts the fuel in so you can go _faster_."

"Oh." He stared at her exposed waist, tanned and glistening under the heat. "I like to go faster." He swallowed tightly.

"And it looks like your, uh, your distributor cap's a little..." She leaned down and started screwing it on tighter, "_loose_."

Sam's eyes followed the curve of her back. "Yeah?" He looked back to her face. "How did you know that?"

"Uh, my dad." Her brow wrinkled as she turned to him, smiling to herself. "He was a real grease monkey. He taught me all about this. I could take it all apart, clean it, put it back together."

"That's weird. I just wouldn't peg you for mechanical..."

"Well, you know, I don't really broadcast it. Guys don't like it when you know more about cars than they do." She smiled vaguely. "Especially not Trent."

"Uh-huh."

She smiled acceptingly. "He hates it."

"Yeah, no, I'm cool with, uh," He motioned to the engine, "you know, females working on my engine. I prefer it, actually." He nodded. "Best friend's a girl and she, uh, y'know, she can do anything…" He grinned. "Seriously, I once saw her talk a vending machine into giving her a Mars bar for free…"

Her eyes widened in amusement, lips curving with a smile. "Yeah?"

He laughed. "Yeah. She's talented." He crossed his arms over his chest, one hand reaching back to scratch his neck. "One time, we…" He shook his head in remembrance. "She's a reporter, right? Or, I guess, wants to be… So we were after this guy and we followed him to this really shady back-alley joint, but it was all maxed out on security." He shook his head, waving his arm around for emphasis. "Like they probably had lasers set up for motion activity or whatever, it was big stuff… And no kidding, she was able to _hack _in and shut the whole thing down." He grinned to himself, eyes falling in thought. "Yeah, she's…" He couldn't even find the right word.

Like, when it came to Chloe, he just didn't think there was anybody more cool and smart and supportive. She was the first person he told about everything, that he trusted completely with like, _everything_. He went to her with all his good news and bad news and even if she teased him, she was always honest with him. Like right now she'd be telling him that she got it, she got why he liked Mikaela, but that maybe it was all just built on a fantasy that was never meant to come true. And for the first time, he actually gave the possibility a thought.

"That's… cool, I think." Mikaela's brows furrowed. "Did you catch the guy?"

"Huh?" He looked back up at her in confusion, still lost in thought. Shaking his head, he realized what she meant. "Oh, uh, yeah, yeah… She's in with some of the cops and she handed over the info we found and got the guy arrested…"

She nodded, ducking her head a little before finally motioning back to the car. "Okay, so, you want to fire it up for me?"

"Yeah, sure, no problem…" He walked back toward the open driver's door.

"Thanks."

"So, uh… I was just thinking…" He reached through the steering wheel to turn the ignition. "You know, if Trent's such a jerk, why do you hang out with him?"

The car sputtered once, twice, three times, failing to start.

She exhaled heavily. "You know what? I'm just, uh, I'm gonna walk." She took a step back from the car and nodded to herself, brows furrowed. "Ah… Good luck with your car." She pointed at it before reaching in through the driver's said to get her bag.

"All right. Walking's healthy, right?" He watched her go, somewhere between disappointed and yet, not. He couldn't explain it but he'd always kind of thought that when he got his chance and she got to know him, things would just click and make sense. Like she'd have some huge epiphany that here he was, the right guy for her. Instead, she was walking away and the sun was setting and he was standing next to a dead car. With a sigh, he climbed into the driver's seat and bent his head against the steering wheel. "Okay, come on… If this is supposed to happen, you gotta gimme a chance here… Please?"

He tried the ignition, but it just sputtered back at him.

He banged his head down against the wheel and exhaled thickly. "The car Gods hate me, don't they? That's it? Isn't it?"

He got no reply.

…

Chloe couldn't believe her bad luck.

Her phone was dead, Miles _actually _found a girl who liked climbing trees almost as much as he did, and there was _nobody _at the lake that she knew remotely well enough to beg a ride off of.

Thankfully, however, the sun was set and so the night air was cool against her overheated skin. She wanted to tan, not burn.

As she walked along the road, dust kicking up with each step, she hugged her arms around herself. She rolled her eyes as a car burst past her with hooting and hollering teenagers at the helm. That was what her trio was _supposed _to be doing before Sam got it in his head to chase after his elusive romantic delusions. She could've sworn her night had started off better than this. The end of a Friday afternoon brought with it Sam's new car and the prospect of letting loose for a weekend. She'd dug out her favorite denim shorts and a tank top that did wonders for her cleavage. She'd even put on makeup even though she was sure the sun would have it melting off her face in mere minutes. And for a second, just a split, momentary lapse of judgment, she thought she saw something flash in Sam's face. When his eyes landed on bare thighs and a familiar face, she thought there could've been just a glimpse of something bigger than friendship.

But then it was gone and they were cruising down the road to Miles' house and she convinced herself she had to let go of her false hope.

And, of course, she should be happy for him. He got his chance and somehow convinced Mikaela Banes to _actually_ get into his car. He should be halfway to living out his dreams by now. And through her disappointed, she told herself repeatedly, like a mantra that kept her going, she was really happy he got what he deserved. Because Sam was a truly great guy and even if she didn't think Mikaela could appreciate that, she was one lucky girl.

Just as she let out a sigh of defeat, her eyes caught sight of a familiar yellow and black Camaro highlighted by a street lamp. Brows furrowed, she hurried her steps, eyeing the hazard lights lit up in the back.

"Sam?" she called out, circling the car to find him leaning over his engine, flashlight in hand, muttering to himself angrily.

"Chloe?" His head darted up and he searched the immediate vicinity before finally turning his flashlight off and finding her. He stood upright. "Hey, what are you…?" He shook his head. "Where's your ride?"

She shrugged. "Couldn't find one."

He hung his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" He rubbed his neck. "This was stupid. _I _was stupid, but…" He pointed his thumb back. "Makes you feel better I've been trying to get this monster to work practically since I left, so… Karma, right?" He laughed humorlessly.

She frowned and moved to stand at his side. "I'm guessing Mikaela left…?" Her brows hiked.

"Yeah, well… It was getting pretty awkward anyway, I mean… She didn't even know who I was or that we'd been in the same classes for twelve years, so…" He shrugged.

Shaking her head, she stared up at him apologetically. And for once, there were no hidden feelings behind it; she really did feel bad for him. "I'm sorry, Sam… I know this wasn't how you wanted it to turn out…"

He frowned, shaking his head. "No, no, I mean…" He lifted his shoulders. "I… I don't…" He reached up and scratched an ear, tugging on the lobe uncomfortably. He stared off in the dark distance. "It was stupid. I-It was a-a _dream_… A dumb dream, y'know?" He licked his lips. "I didn't know her and she didn't know me and… and it's over, so… Whatever."

Still, Chloe hugged an arm around him and laid her head on his shoulder. "Her loss, okay?" She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "She doesn't know what she's missing."

He looked down at her, his mouth opened, no doubt with some witty retort at the end of his tongue, but then he was just _staring _at her. His brows knotted and his mouth relaxed and he looked down at her searchingly. "I really am sorry…" he murmured. "Leaving you guys like that… It was a dick move…"

She smiled faintly. "Well… I didn't want to _say_ anything, since you were brokenhearted and all, but…"

He grinned and shook his head slightly. "I'm lucky, y'know?"

Her eyebrow hiked. "Yeah, girl of your dreams leaves you high and dry with a dead car…" She rolled her eyes. "I can definitely see how you might think you're lucky…"

He snorted. "Shut up… We were _this _close to having a moment, okay?" He showed her his thumb and forefinger hardly an inch apart. "You were supposed to ask why I was lucky and I'd say 'cause I had you and it would'a been a—a_ thing!_"

"I'm _sorry!" _She laughed. "Do over! Do over!"

"No!" He shook his head dramatically. "No, you ruined it. It's done!"

Chuckling, she shoulder-bumped him.

He slid an arm around her shoulder and hugged her close, his chin falling atop her head.

For a long moment, he just relaxed, breathing in the faint of scent of her shampoo wafting on the cool breeze.

The radio crooned out at them suddenly, drawing their attention.

_I don't know where I'd be,  
>Without you here with me,<br>Life with you makes perfect sense…_

Chloe shifted her feet and leaned away from him. She smiled awkwardly. "Your car has some serious kinks…"

"Yeah, uh… Radio's just…" He scratched his head. "Got great timing," he muttered under his breath.

"Huh?"

"What? Sorry?" He widened his eyes at her innocently.

She stared up at him, her brows quirked and her mouth turned up in that knowing way of hers, like she was seconds away from teasing him.

His eyes zeroed in expectantly, locked on smooth pink lips. And for a second, his only thought was wondering why he'd never noticed before. How _distractingly_ pretty she was…

For that moment, with the radio filling up the empty space around them, he thought friendship was overrated.

_You stand by me,  
>And you believe in me,<br>Like nobody ever has,  
>When my world goes crazy,<br>You're right there to save me…_

"You know what, I, uh, I'm gonna try it again, see if it'll turn on for me…" He quickly moved around the car. "First signs of life in awhile, should probably take advantage, right?" He laughed awkwardly. As he walked out of her view, he turned his eyes up and questioned when he started getting flustered around _Chloe_… When he started having moments that weren't totally and completely platonic. When the best part of his night wasn't that Mikaela Banes had looked at him or smiled at him or even sat just two feet away from him, but that Chloe had shown up when he thought all hope was lost and cheered him up.

He didn't have time to wonder long, however, as when he sat down in the driver's seat and turned the ignition, the car roared to life.

He clapped his hands. "Yes!" He turned his head out the window. "Close the hood and hop in! We're back on the road!"

With a distracted half-smile, she circled the car, pushing the hood down before she hopped into the passenger seat. "Reassessing this whole thing, I think if anyone's lucky, it's me…" She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "Or maybe I'm _your _lucky charm, Witwicky!"

"Maybe," he agreed, smiling to himself. "Maybe."

…

**Washington****, DC  
><strong>_Pentagon_** - **_National__ Military Command Center_

The analysts were gathered together in groups, going through theories.

A bearded man with glasses approached his. "Hey, guys, I think the other team figured it out." He paused for effect before whispering meaningfully, "_Iran_."

The three others all relaxed, faces falling argumentatively.

"Come on, man," the shaggy haired teammate said. "This is _way_ too smart for Iranian scientists, eh? Think about it." He readjusted his headphones dismissively.

An Asian man leaned toward the only girl of the group and asked, "What do you think, kid? Chinese?"

Maggie Madsen shook her head, brows furrowed, and answered in an Australian accent, "No way. This is _nothing _like what the Chinese are using."

…

**Air Force One****  
><strong>  
>Aboard Air Force One, Secretary Keller's speech was being aired. "<em>We will hunt down this enemy. And when we do, we'll know just what to do with them<em>…"

Beneath an officer reading his newspaper, a briefcase turned from an ordinary item to Frenzy, a blue and silver robotic machine, moving to and fro behind the chair without anyone being the wiser.

Standing on steel legs, he maneuvered past sleeping passengers to an elevator, hiding when he heard the laughter of two stewards.

When the air-locked doors opened, Tracy, a female attendant, climbed on board, and he readjusted to look like a compact boom box.

As the elevator reached the storage room, the attendant carried the boom box off and left it on a trolley while she went to the fridge for the president's adored Ding Dongs. While she was otherwise occupied, the machine transformed out of its boom box state and began moving around the room. When she unrolled the Ding Dong, it slipped from her hands and rolled across the floor, bumping into the metallic foot of Frenzy as he hid behind a collection of wires and pipes. As Tracy approached, picking it up and blowing off any dirt that might have clung to it, Frenzy armed to attack if need be. But as Tracy took a bite of the cheap treat, he simply watched.

"Oh, gross," she muttered, wiping her mouth, before walking back to the fridge and trolley.

Frenzy crawled out from his hiding place and made his way to the control board, hacking into the Defense Network.

A laugh in the near distance interrupted him and he raised an arm, a gun forming, ready for attack. But when it faded away and he heard no other intrusions, he turned and thrust a long, silver spike straight into the computer to begin downloading. File after file began streaming across the screen.

Back at the Pentagon, Maggie was listening intently at her station. Her eyes turned to her left and she whispered, "Do you hear that?" She pressed her hands against her headphones to bring the sound closer to her.

Her shaggy-haired companion frowned, tipping his head to hear better.

"Are you getting this?" She typed into her computer and watched as a _Foreign Signal Detected _alert began flashing. "I think they're hacking the network again…"

"Uh-oh," he muttered.

Frenzy fiddled around until he found what he was looking for, a file marked Project Iceman, and began downloading it and everything associated.

Meanwhile, Maggie compared the new snippet of sound they had to the one she was hearing. "Oh my God. This is a _direct _match to the signal in Qatar." She leaned toward her teammate. "Are you running a diagnostic?"

"Should I be?" he wondered worriedly.

"Yes, you should!"

"So I am."

Frenzy hooked both his arms into either side of the computer and gave an inhuman squeal as the screen read _Initiating File Upload_.

The computer began beeping an alert then. _P.O.T.U.S. MAINFRAME SYSTEM ALERT – VIRUS DETECTED_.

Maggie jumped out of her seat and exclaimed, "Someone! They're hacking into Air Force One! We need a senior analyst." As a number of officers surrounded her, she turned to the nearest one and told him, "I think they're planting a virus."

"A virus?"

"It's streaming right now."

Maggie sat back down and explained, "They are planting a virus and stealing a whole lot of data from your system at the same time."

A Pentagon officer gripped his mic and alerted, "_Code Red. We have a breach. Air Force One, someone onboard has breached the military network_."

Onboard, agents began searching the plane for the enemy.

Maggie watched her screen as information flew past her and out of reach. "You've got to cut the hard lines…" she concluded.

"_What?_"

"Whatever they _want_," she tapped her screen, "they are _getting _it."

"Sir?" the Pentagon officer asked, turning to his superior. "Permission to take down the Defense Network."

Watching from behind them, he took a deep breath and then ordered, "Cut all server hard lines now."

The officer sent the same demand out to Air Force One.

Frenzy watched as the screen suddenly stopped, freezing completely as a red, blinking alert told him, CONNECTION TERMINATED.

He leaned in to read the page in front of him.

The top was titled:

PROJECT ICEMAN

ABOVE TOP SECRET

SECTOR 7 ACCESS ONLY

Below was a page of the New York Journal, featuring a black and white photo of an older, bearded man, with symbols all around him and a block-letter title that said, **ARCTIC EXPLORER ALLEGES ICE MAN FOUND**.

The file information on the right corner read:

LAST FILE FOUND:

PROJECT ICEMAN -

SPECIMEN DISCOVERED:

SEPTEMBER 7, 1895

FIRST ON SIGHT:

CAPT. WITWICKY, AMUNDSEN

"_Witwicky!_" Frenzy repeated to himself.

The screen went blue then, flashing a _Terminal Idle _sign at him and he yelled angrily before smashing his head against it in a flurry of sparks.

The air-locked doors opened to admit an agent, who stopped at the damage Frenzy left behind. He lifted his wrist and spoke into the mic there, "Someone's tampered with the POTUS mainframe." An agent came in behind him as back-up.

Frenzy maneuvered across the ceiling above, drawing their eyes.

"What the hell—?"

The two agents began firing at him.

But as he dropped down, he sent two razor sharp blades at them, catching them in the chest and rendering them dead.

An alarm blared above and agents hurried to help. "Shots fired in the under-deck. Repeat, shots fired. Crew, prepare for emergency descent."

Frenzy stopped next to one agent, poking him with his metallic finger.

Behind him, a shot was fired and he turned to see another agent had appeared.

He fended off the bullets and shot back, taking out a third agent before hiding once more.

While more officers filled the room, Frenzy reformed into a boom-box once more and sat himself atop a stack of metal crates.

At the Pentagon, Secretary Keller walked swiftly down the hallway, surrounded by officers. "I want our President in that bunker. And I don't want to discuss a damn thing other 'til that becomes reality. That's our first priority; that's our _only _priority right now."

An officer informed the communications room, "Air Force One is on the ground."

While police and secret service agents surrounded the plane, Frenzy was able to escape through a landing gear hatch.

In the distance, he saw a black police car pull up and recognized it as Barricade. He walked across the tarmac, covering his face as though nobody would notice him.

When he climbed inside, the flashing image of a man to keep up appearances stared back at him.

Frenzy shot his middle finger back at the gathered agents and spoke aloud in a growling, electronic sound, "Stupid insects… Tried to shoot me." He reached across to the open laptop and shared, "Found a clue to the All Spark."

He typed away furiously, bringing up the same page he'd been looking at before the computer had shut down. "Witwicky man – he has seen our language." He began searching other pages, muttering, "Witwicky. Witwicky search," before eventually finding an eBay page for Sam's great-great-grandfather's heirlooms.

He clicked on a picture to expand it and scanned the photo where an unusual crack was in the top right corner of a pair of glasses. When he clicked back to the user of the page, he found a picture of Sam with wild hair and wide eyes. "We must find LadiesMan217," he concluded before bringing up a map.

…

**Burbank****, California**

There was a flash inside the black and yellow Camaro outside the Witwicky house, before it rumbled to life.

Startling awake, Sam's brows furrowed as he listened hard, hearing a familiar engine revving in the distance. With a gasp, he threw off his blankets and leapt out of bed.

"Oh, God. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" He raced down the hallway and out the door to the second floor balcony to stare down at his car pulling out of the driveway. "Hey, that's my car! No!" As it took off down the alley, Sam ran back inside. "No, no, no, no, no, no." Grabbing his sneakers, he ran downstairs and right out the door. While still dragging on a sweater and hurrying back for his bike, he yelled at the house, "Dad, call the cops!"

Not waiting for a reply, he took off in pursuit of his car, biking down the sidewalks alongside his seemingly stolen vehicle. "Where you going with my car, buddy? Where you going?" he muttered angrily. He pulled out his cell phone and rode one-handed, his eyes moving from the empty space in front of him to where his Camaro kept a steady pace. "Hello? 911 emergency? My car has been stolen!" He turned off onto the main road, following behind his car. "I'm in pursuit!" he exclaimed. "Right? I need all units, the whole— the whole squadron. Bring _everyone!_" he shouted. "No, no, don't ask me questions, all right? My father's the head of the neighborhood watch!"

Closing his phone, be prayed they'd make it on time before the thief stripped the car done and sold if off for parts or something equally as devastating.

He could hear the ringing alarm of the train up ahead and watched with furrowed brows as his Camaro turned off into the train lot. It stopped, the engine gunning before it plowed through the locked gates.

Sam rolled up behind it, moving through the opening in the fence and dropping his bike to the side.

A train chugged slowly along the tracks, squealing and snarling, and he hurried down the way to maneuver around the back to the other side.

Slipping behind a work truck and a pile of metal bits and pieces, he bent down low to peer over and see what the car thief had in mind for his Camaro.

But as he stared across the junk yard, he found not his car but a robot standing unbelievably tall. Yellow and black with steel framing, arms and legs and even a head, it raised a beam of light from its chest up into the sky.

"Oh my God."

Sam followed the spotlight, angling his head back, watching as it cut through black sky and clouds, creating some weird pattern up above.

Mouth slack, he looked back in shock and awe. But when the beam turned in his direction, he fell out of view, bending and taking out his cell phone, gasping to himself as adrenaline pumped rapidly through his veins.

Hitting the record button, he stared into the camera with wide eyes, sweat dripping down the side of his face. "My name is Sam Witwicky. Whoever finds this, my car is alive, okay?" He lifted his phone up over the pile of metal junk he was using as a barrier to catch a clip of it before angling it back to his face. "You saw that?" He eyes widened intensely. "Since this is my last words on Earth, I just wanna say, Mom, Dad, I love you, and if you find Busty Beauties under my bed, it wasn't mine." He waved his finger negatively. "I'm holding it for Miles." He paused. "No, no, wait, that—" He shook his head, ducking it low in shame. "Okay, that's not true. It's mine and Uncle Charles gave it to me. I'm sorry…" He stared intensely into the camera. "Mojo, _I love you_."

Snapping his phone shut, Sam started walking slowly and quietly toward the robot-car, but with each step, he got himself closer to where a sign read _Beware of Dogs. _Shoulders tensed, he balled his hands into fists and prayed the dogs were sleeping.

But with one faint snap of warning, a German Shepherd and a Rottweiler gave chase, snarling and barking as they went. The chains holding them were pulled right out of the brick wall.

Sam hopped over cement blocks, tripped on a pile of wood chips and cried, "No! No! No! No! My God!" His voice cracked as he screamed back at them, "No, you're a good dog! Good dog! Good dog! Oh my God." Running into the middle of an abandoned shed, the walls falling apart, he leapt onto two oil drums and threw his hands up in surrender.

The guard dogs rushed him, jumping and snapping their jaws at him.

"Whoa! Hey, hey, hey, hey! Whoa! All right! Oh! No! No!"

Suddenly, his Camaro came bursting through the weak wooden slats of one wall, swerving and circling him, kicking up dirt with its tires and scaring off the two rabid guards.

"Okay. Please, please don't kill me! I'm sorry!" He dug around in his pockets, shouting, "Take the keys! I don't want them!" before throwing them. "Car's yours!" he exclaimed, jumping off the barrels and running out the new whole in the wall.

As Sam exited, he came to a stumbling stop as a cop car pulled up in front of him, red and blue lights flashing.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Listen, listen, listen! Good, you're here," he said.

A police officer jumped out of the passenger seat, lifting a flashlight in one hand and a gun in the other. "Let me see your hands!"

His partner exited the driver's side, bending low and shining a spotlight on him.

Sam lifted his hands but told them, "No, no, no, no! It's not me!"

"Let me see your hands."

"The guy's inside!" he insisted.

"Shut up!" The first police officer walked around him carefully, putting his flashlight away and holding his gun with both hands. "Walk towards the car," he ordered.

Sighing, Sam put his hands behind his head and walked toward the car.

"Put your head on the hood."

Snapping his mouth shut in defeat, he let his body fall forward, forehead making a hollow thump as it hit the metal.

Not even 24 hours with a car of his own…

His dad was never going to let him live this down.

[**Next**: Part III.]


	3. Part III

**Title**: Transformers: Heroic Hearts  
><strong>Category<strong>: Smallville/Transformers  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Humor/Action/Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Chloe Sullivan/Sam Witwicky  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Giant spoilers, violence, strong language, sexuality  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Whole chunks of the movie Transformers (2007) were rewritten here for coherence, so any of those who haven't seen the movies would be able to understand. I take no credit for any parts recognizable to the brand or the movies themselves.  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 8,718  
><strong>Summary<strong>: (AU) All Sam wanted was a car and the girl of his dreams. He gets both; only neither are who or what he expected.

**_Transformers: Heroic Hearts_**  
>-Novel-<p>

**III.**

**Washington****, DC**  
><em>Pentagon<em>

Secretary Keller swept his card through the reader next to the air locked glass door marked N.M.C.C. As it slid aside, he stepped in, nodding to the security men watching behind bulletproof glass, an officer at his back and the weight of the world heavy on his shoulders.

Admiral Brigham and a team of agents met him on the other side and got straight to business, escorting him to the National Deputy Directory of Operations, who got down to business immediately, "Whoever did this finally managed to infiltrate our defense network, which is what they tried to do in Qatar, only this time it worked."

"What did they _get?_" Keller demanded.

"We still don't know."

They entered a locked computer area, surrounded by glass walls.

"Talk to me about the virus."

"It's a Spider-bot virus…"

Maggie Madsen noticed the Secretary from afar as she walked down the hall, and crept inside the room before the door could close. Folder hugged to her chest, she hid in the back and listened.

"We're not sure what it's going to do, but it may cripple the system."

Keller took a seat. "Can we stop it?"

The Deputy shook his head. "Every time we try an antivirus, it adapts and speeds up. It's like it's not a virus anymore. It's become the system."

A knock behind her had Maggie turning to see the officer who'd been escorting her shaking his head.

_One minute_, she mouthed, lifting a finger meaningfully.

Brigham turned to the secretary, explaining, "Obviously the first phase of a major attack against the US. The only countries with this kind of capability are Russia, North Korea, maybe China."

Maggie lifted her hand and took a step forward, interrupting them, "I'm sorry, that's not correct."

Hands on his hips, Brigham stared at her firmly. "Excuse me, young lady. I didn't see you standing there. You would be _who?_"

An officer tried to escort her out while she explained dismissively, "I'm just the analyst who detected the hack."

Keller lowered his glasses to the desk and stood, staring at her curiously. "Hold on." He waved a hand to stop her from leaving. "It was _you?"_

She took a step further in.

"You did it?"

"Her team," the Deputy confirmed.

"Sir, I was just trying to say…" She motioned with her hand meaningfully. "They hacked your firewall in _ten seconds_. Okay. Even a supercomputer with a—a brute force attack would take twenty _years _to do that!"

Brigham walked toward a screen, waving an arm to it condescendingly. "Maybe you can explain, then, how our latest satellite imagery shows North Korea _doubling_ its naval activity."

Her brows furrowed. "Maybe it's a precaution, because isn't that what _we're_ doing?"

Brigham chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he smirked to himself.

"The signal pattern is _learning_. It's _evolving _on its own," she explained seriously. "And you need to move past Fourier transfers and—and start considering quantum mechanics!"

"There is _nothing_ on Earth that complex," the Deputy argued.

"What about an organism? A _living_ organism?" She looked between them intensely. "Maybe some kind of... _DNA_-based computer? And I— I know that that sounds crazy—" she admitted hurriedly.

Keller shook his head, lifting his hands to end the whole thing. "That's enough. That's enough." He walked toward her. "We have six floors of analysts working on this thing." He tipped his head to stare at her firmly. "Now, if you can find _proof _to back up your theory, I'm gonna be happy to listen to you... But if you don't get a filter on that brain-mouth thing, you're gonna be off the team. You understand?"

She stared back unflinchingly.

He snapped his fingers twice and she left the room with an officer escorting her.

…

**Burbank****, California**

Sam shook his head, rubbing his fingers into his eyes. "No, no, it's not funny, Chloe… I was arrested and I don't know if you know this, but the sheriff is out of his freaking mind!" he whisper-shouted, glancing briefly at his dad, who'd been stone silent since they'd left the police station.

"I'm sorry, it's just… You were arrested after _your _car was stolen…" She paused. "Actually, you know what? On what grounds did they even _have _to bring you in?"

He rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back. "This is not an _expos__é_on whether cops follow protocol, okay?" he snapped. "I spent the night in a very smelly room with bars! There were bars for walls, Chloe! An-And a big, brutish, _skinhead _that looked like he wanted to skin me alive and wear me like a vest, okay?"

She snorted. "I think you're overreacting…"

"No, no, I'm not, all right? Because last night…" He glanced at his dad again and then turned his head, exclaiming seriously, "My car turned into a _robot!_"

"I know, you mentioned that part…"

"Great, you think I'm crazy too, don't you?" He threw his hand up. "_Everybody _thinks I'm either drugged up or looking for attention or sleepwalking! _Nobody _believes that my car _transformed _into a giant robot being that tried to kill me!" He laughed humorlessly. "What kind of best friend _are _you, anyway?"

She scoffed. "First of all, just the other day you were calling _Miles _your best friend. And _secondly_, I never _said _I didn't believe you… I just chose to focus on the funnier parts of your story wherein you were nearly goaded into a fight by bored police officers that have nothing better to do than get people to pee in cups and challenge them to a shoot-out."

"That guy was _on drugs_, all right? The sheriff running this place is off his nut!" His knee jumped irritably. "Does that not scare _anybody _else?"

She laughed lightly. "Look, if your dad lets you out on good behavior, you should come over. We can Google robot cars and see what we come up with…"

"Y'know, for a girl who said she believed me, you're not exactly cheering me up…" he muttered.

"Were you hurt?" she asked.

"I'm emotionally _traumatized!_" he argued.

"Fine. Then bring you emotions by and I'll kiss them better," she snarked. "Look, it was _one _false arrest! Live a little! You'll survive!"

"Comforting. Really." He nodded, pursing his lips. "Next time, forget dad, I should obviously have _you_ for my one phone call!"

"Maybe then you won't be so anxious…"

"I'm hanging up now," he told her, shaking his head.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry… Sorry you car didn't like you enough to stick around, but instead manifested into a robot and ditched you… Then tried to kill you… And that the cops who saved you thought you were a druggie who liked guns…" She laughed warmly. "Tell me this isn't the most interesting thing that's ever happened to you!" she joked.

Despite himself, he mouth twitched with a smile. "Yeah, okay, it was…"

"Like I said, you'll be fine… _Trust me_, I've been arrested _a lot_ more than you."

He snorted, eyebrows hiked as he grinned to himself. "Right, the Bonnie to my Clyde…"

"You wish," she muttered.

Remembering the night before and the weird influx of feelings he'd been having, he nodded to himself.

When his dad cleared his throat, however, he told himself to stop thinking about it. "I gotta go… I'll call you later."

"All right. Try to stay out of jail today."

"No promises."

After he hung up, he looked over at his dad's unimpressed face. "Dad, you gotta know this isn't my fault…"

"What I _know _is $2,000 of my money drove off last night and your only explanation is that it turned into a _robot_…" His eyebrows rose. "Would you believe you if you were me?"

He blinked rapidly. "Yes…?" he said uncertainly.

Ron sighed, shaking his head and staring out at the road irritably.

Figuring he was off the hook, for a little while at least, Sam sunk down in his seat, eyes scanning every car that passed them by for a homicidal yellow and black Camaro.

…

**The Middle East**

Lennox and his team trudged across the sand, their guns weighing heavy on their arms.

They stopped at a well just outside of Mahfouz's village and Epps poured a glass of water over his burning hot face.

"Let's hope this telephone line works," Lennox said, walking past.

Suddenly, a rumbling could be heard, and behind them the sand spat up into the air. It knocked a metal ladder up out of the ground and the stand and sign it was connected to began to tip and lean precariously.

"Heads up!" a soldier yelled.

"Heads up! Hey!"

"Whoa!"

The sign fell, crashing into the sand below, mere feet from Donnelly and Figueroa.

Fig gaped, looking back and forth between the back of Donnelly to the metal skeleton lying not far from him.

"What the heck was that?" Donnelly asked lightly.

He motioned back to it in confusion before answering in Spanish.

"English, dude." He turned back around dismissively. "English."

Lennox looked around suspiciously, his brow furrowed.

Unbeknownst to him, the tail of Scorponok had come out from the sand and spread, showing razor sharp edges and a piercing needle end moving dangerously close to Lennox's back.

Spotting it, Epps screamed, "Whoaaaaaaaa!" before shooting rapidly.

Lennox leapt out of the way, jumping across the sand and staring down as he waited expectantly for it to come up and attack once more.

Scorponok disappeared beneath ground again, only to resurface to take a soldier down with it, its metal tail swinging wildly as the dust from the upturned sand covered it.

Two soldiers fired blindly into the dust cover.

"Open fire! Contact! _Contact!_"

Lennox shouted out, "Everybody, quiet. Settle."

As the dust began to fade, Scorponok burst out once more and speared his tail through Donnelly from behind, who gave a wet screech before he was dragged down into the sand below.

"Whoa, mother... What the hell?" Epps screamed.

Yelling, the rangers ran across the sandy hills, turning on occasion to shoot back blindly as they hurried for cover in the village.

When Mahfouz fell, Lennox went back for him, shouting, "Get up! Get up! Come on!" while grabbing his arm and pulling him along with him.

Behind them, Scorponok screeched, coming up out of the ground behind Epps and two others soldiers, pincers spinning and reaching, clamping onto empty air, before it fled back beneath the sand once more.

"Go! Move it!" Lennox yelled.

Village people, seeing the impending danger, ran for cover as well, crying out in fear. Some of the men hurried out to join the fight, bringing guns of their own.

Scorponok emerged once more and planted himself, his tail poised above. He aimed a cannon arm and shot a burst of fire, just barely missing Epps who hit the ground on his back.

Mahfouz at his side, Lennox shouted back. "Fig! Cover the rear! Cover fire! Move it! Fig, cover the rear!" He slowed down, motioning with his arms wildly. "Epps! Cover the rear! Move it! Come on!"

Scorponok moved closer and closer to the village, not the least bit slowed down by their wall of bullets.

"Where's your papa? Where's your papa?" Lennox asked, looking down at the frightened boy.

"Papa! Papa!" Mahfouz shouted.

They ran through a door into a house and he jumped into his father Akram's arms.

"Sir, I need a telephone," Lennox told him, motioning with his hand to his ear. "The— The— _Telephone!_"

Akram nodded. "Telephone," he repeated.

"Telephone, telephone, yes!"

Crossing to a table, he picked something up and held it out to Lennox. "Cell phone!"

Taking it, Lennox said in relief, "I don't know how to thank you."

Outside, soldiers were moving from cover to cover as Scorponok continued to fire on them repeatedly.

Bent over, Lennox pressed a finger to his ear and shouted into the receiver, "This is an emergency Pentagon call! I need you— Do you understand? It's an emergency Pentagon—"

The window shattered behind him with a piercing screech as the wall was blown to rubble.

"Aaaah!"

While missiles were being shot all over and the ground was mottled with bursts of sand and fire, Lennox ran to another room and yelled angrily, "I don't _have_ a credit card!"

The operator on the other end picked his nose dismissively and shook his head. "Sir, the attitude is not going to speed things up _any_... bit... at all." He flicked his fingers clean. "I'm going to ask you to speak into the mouthpiece _very_ clearly…"

Racing out of Mahfouz's shelter, weaving through running and screaming villagers, he yelled, "I'm in the middle of a war! This is freaking ridiculous!"

While Scorponok was barrel-rolling out of the way of fire, Lennox ran in search of Epps. Finding him, he yelled, "I need a credit card!" He bent low behind a broken wall of rock and shouted to him, "Epps! Where's your wallet?"

Shooting, Epps yelled back at him, "_Pocket!"_

Lennox crawled over to him, screaming in his ear, "_Which _pocket?"

"My _back_ pocket!"

On his knees, Lennox roughly patted around his back. "You got _ten_ back pockets!" he hollered.

"_Left cheek!_ _Left cheek!_ _Left cheek!_" To his fellow fighters, he yelled, "All right, keep shooting! Keep shooting!"

Finding what he needed, Lennox moved along behind the barricade of rock wall, talking to the operator once more, "Okay, it's _Visa!_"

Resting his head on his upturned hand, the operator said unenthusiastically, "Also, sir, have you heard about our premium plus world service gold package?"

Brows furrowed, he exclaimed, "_No_, I don't want a premium package!" An explosion nearby had him ducking low and cringing. Seconds later, he leaned around the wall and tossed the phone, calling out, "Epps! Pentagon!"

Back at the Pentagon, Brigham, an officer, and Secretary Keller gathered around a control officer.

"Give me a status!" Brigham demanded.

"Sir, we're tracking a Special Ops team under fire in Qatar. They say they're survivors of the base attack."

"Survivors?" Keller asked, eyes widening.

Scorponok backed up, screeching as rapid fire impeded his progress.

"I ain't never seen this in my life!" Epps spoke into the phone. "Need gunships on station ASAP!"

"Predator's coming up in a minute!" he was told.

The Deputy braced himself on a desk, telling Secretary Keller, "We're linking the call to the nearest AWACs."

Meanwhile, Scorponok looked all around, assessing the enemy.

"Unknown, man. I don't— Oh, man, if you seen this shit..."

"_Predator ETA two minutes_."

A sleek, black Predator approached the village rapidly.

When close enough, it took visual footage of Scorponok and sent it back to the Pentagon for confirmation.

"What is that?" Keller muttered, staring at the screen, puzzled.

"I don't know," an officer said, shaking his head.

Scorponok shot off various missiles; plaster from remaining walls rained down from above.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Epps yelled, ducking out of the way.

"We need air support and we need it _now_," a Pentagon officer decided. He shouted, "Roll in strike package Bravo on unknown target. I authenticate Tango Whiskey at time zero-three-hundred Zulu."

While various jets were loaded up and readied to help out, Epps yelled into the phone, "Seven man team, north of orange smoke!" He grunted, throwing the canister into the distance.

"_Received Kill Box One Alpha. Engage hostile_," a flight officer directed.

"Attack direction west!" Epps told them. "You're clear and hot!"

"_Strike, tell me status of Hog right now._"

"_Hog One-One Dark Star status._"

"Lennox!" Epps yelled, turning to him. "The heat's coming!"

"Laze the target!" he ordered, running in behind Epps and lifting his own gun to put a spotlight on Scorponok. "We got a beam-rider incoming! Laze target!"

Scorponok shot off multiple missiles, blowing up a wall and a soldier in its path.

Seeing the oncoming jets, Lennox yelled, "Ready! Heat's coming!"

"What?" Epps growled. "Bring it!"

The Warthog pilot radioed, "_Receiving radar jamming in vicinity of target_," and started hammering Scorponok with continuous fire.

A second pilot shot the robot with multiple high-powered missiles.

As Lennox and Epps peered through the settling dust, the Captain shook his head. "There's no freaking way that thing's still not down..."

Epps lifted the phone to his ear and ordered, "Spooky Three Two, use 105 shells. Bring the rain."

An on-board flight officer radioed, "_Be advised, ground team is requesting 105 sabot rounds_."

The Warthog circled around the area, shooting from side cannons.

The ground exploded with each hit, dirt and debris flying all over while Lennox's team kept up a constant barrage of fire.

As the dirt began to settle once more, the men rose carefully, searching the immediate vicinity.

Scorponok writhed on his back before finally plunging back into the ground, the very end of his tail sparking and falling off to twitch in the sand.

"Did we lose them?" Keller asked.

An officer radioed out, "_Warthog One, confirm visual on friendlies_."

Orange smoke bathed the remains of the village.

"Where's Fig?" Lennox demanded.

Hearing pained screaming in the distance, the group ran toward it.

"Fig? Fig?"

"Oh, God! Goddamn it!" Figueroa cried.

Lennox found him on the ground on his back, his hand pressed to his gut. "Get a medic! Get a medic!"

"I'm sorry."

"We'll get a medic. Just hold on."

"We need a medevac," Epps called in. "One man down. Patient care category urgent..."

As the sun set, a soldier waved his arms, flagging down an incoming helicopter. As it landed, it kicked up the orange smoke and a cloud of dust.

Lennox and his men carried the injured Fig up a hill of sand.

Fist pressed to his mouth, safe in the Pentagon, Keller demanded, "Bring them home. You get those men _stateside_ right now. I want them debriefed in ten hours."

…

**Washington****, DC**

Back with her team, Maggie was working hard to prove her theory.

Brows furrowed, she came to the conclusion, "There's only _one _hacker in the world who can break this code…"

Taking the USB chip out, she hid it in her blush compact, pretending to brush some on her cheeks as she surveyed the area for anybody who might've noticed.

During her lunch break, she broke out of the Pentagon and began rushing down the sidewalks, arms full of folders.

Seeing a Taxi pulling up toward the crosswalk, Maggie waved her arm wildly and jumped right in front of the car. "Hey! Hey, hey, hey, wait! Stop, stop!

It wasn't long later that she was dropped off in front of Glen Whitman's house. The door was opened by a portly black man wearing a red jersey, staring at her in shock as she walked right inside before he could even greet her properly. "I am sorry to bother you," she said.

He stuttered after her, "M-M-Maggie?"

"Listen, I need your help…"

Glen gaped at her, wide-eyed, his arms held up defensively. "_No!_ This is my private area, my- my place of _Zen_ and _peace_," he said dramatically.

"Listen to me," Maggie tried again, only to be drowned out as a female voice shouted, "_Glen! _Who is it?"

Rolling his eyes, he yelled back, "_Shut up_, Grandma!" He looked back at Maggie and demanded irritably, "What are you _doing _here?"

Again, his grandmother yelled his name.

"Just give me a break, will you, please?" Maggie asked as she dug out her compact from her purse.

"Grandmama! Drink your prune juice!" Glen hollered over her.

Together, they made their way back to Glen's bedroom, only to find his cousin dancing away on a green and red pad on the floor.

"Oh, oh what level are you on, man?" Glen wondered, hurrying to a seat.

"Si-iiix!" He laughed, clapping his hands as he danced.

Glen bounced in his chair along with him before yelling out, "Oh, here come the Matrix! Here come the Matrix!"

They each mimicked leaning back out of the line of fire, yelling, "Oooooo-ahhhh!" before they laughed to each other happily.

Sitting on his bed, Maggie watched unimpressed as Glen and his cousin continued to sing and dance, ignoring her entirely.

"Glen, _seriously_…" She leaned over and asked, "Don't you want to see something classified?"

Taking the bait, he finally paused the machine and kicked his cousin out of the room, before looking back at her and wondering, "_How_classified?"

She fiddled with the compact between her fingers before finally saying, "Like… I will go to _jail_ for the rest of my _life_ for showing you classified…"

Turning around, he grinned, squeezing his eyes closed and pumping his fists. "_Yes! _One quick peek…"

…

**Burbank****, California**

"Did you _walk _here?" Chloe asked, opening her door and looking past him to the empty road in front of her house. "Or did your dad drop you off?"

"Not a huge fan of cars right now, okay?" He shrugged. "I looked for the glasses, but… I dunno where I put 'em, I couldn't find 'em anywhere…"

"Still no glasses? And after all I did to help you get that mysterious robot car that stole itself to get away from your lackluster driving," Chloe teased as she held the door open wide for Sam to walk in.

"Ha, ha," he muttered, rolling his eyes. Kicking off his shoes at the door, he turned around to walk backwards as he talked to her. "Sullivan Senior home or…?"

She shook her head, closing the door and following after him to the stairs. "Nope. He's filling in for somebody tonight, said he probably wouldn't be home until tomorrow…"

"Cool. Then maybe you can help me out…" He looked around in a paranoid fashion before finally turning his gaze back to her. "I wanna see if you can dig up anything on my car…" He shrugged. "Use those Scooby skills of yours and I dunno, find out where it came from, how it turned into a giant robot, you know, details the car dealer left out…"

She smiled at him, tipping her head to peer at him thoughtfully. "Great minds think alike…" She walked past him to climb a few steps. "Of course, this great mind thought of it _first_, so she should _probably _be awarded something…"

He snorted, trailing her up to the second floor. "Let's see what you've found first, Sherlock…"

"That's the best part…" She whirled around and hiked her brows at him. "I didn't find _anything_…"

He frowned. "How is that the _best _part?" He shook his head. "We have different views on what's best here. See, best for me would be if you told me my car was a mistake, a—a _fluke_. Maybe it releases a hallucinogenic gas that I inhaled and everything I _think _I saw I _didn't_…" He nodded seriously.

She rolled her eyes. "So _new _to the world of weird…" she muttered, before turning back around and making her way into her bedroom.

"Yeah, well, if this is the welcome basket, I'm starting to think I liked the normal world a lot better…"

While Chloe took a seat at her computer, Sam walked around her bedroom distractedly.

Chloe liked her colors; orange, green, blue, pink, yellow; anything bright, flashy and welcoming. Her walls were painted in blocks of purple and olive green. It smelled a whole lot better than his too, with scented candles all over, a dresser covered in perfumes and make-up, and a window propped open to let in a warm breeze. He looked at each of the picture frames spread out on silver shelves, her bookshelf, and her bedside table, recognizing her old best friends, Pete and Clark, a photo of her mom Moira, and a couple of her and her dad. He grinned to himself as he found at least three of him and her; in each one, they were smiling at each other, his chin resting on her shoulder or their cheeks pressed together or one of them rolling their eyes as Miles hung upside down from a tree in the background. He laughed under his breath when he found a picture of her and Mojo sharing a kiss.

"Okay…" She turned around in her computer chair. "I've searched every known database I can think of, and seriously, there is no _history _of that car ever existing…"

Sam turned back to her, momentarily confused. His brows furrowed, he shook his head slowly. "Sorry?"

She sighed. "Okay, sure, there are a _ton_ of Camaro's out there, but the one you were sold has absolutely no history to its name…" She waved her hand at her computer. "I'm not even sure what it was doing at Bobby B's... There's no record of them buying it, and slimy salesman he might be, but he made sure to keep an up to date list of everything he owned and sold… Probably because of how many times he's been audited, but that's a whole other issue…" She shook her head. "So I'm sorry, but tracking it down to its last owner or even where it was _made_… It's not _possible_."

"No, no, no…" He walked over, leaning over her shoulder to look at her screen. "There's gotta be something… Chlo, you're the _best _at what you do… Can't you, I dunno, hack into the government and see if they have like, a prototype of this and, y'know, maybe one's missing or something…" He snapped his fingers. "Yeah, maybe one of their robot cars went rogue, right? Wanted to be free… Started feeling like in that iRobot movie!"

She stared up at him, her lips curled at the corners. "Look, Sam, you won't find a bigger Will Smith fan, but…" She cut her eyes to her computer. "Even _I _have limits… And when the trail runs _this _cold, there's not a whole lot of places I can go…"

"This sucks," he groaned, dropping his head.

"Well, look on the bright side…" she said, leaning back in her chair.

He raised a brow at her.

She grinned. "Your car's not being sold off for spare parts… It's just a run away that'll probably come home as soon as it needs gas or an oil change…"

He stared at her a long second before his stony expression cracked. Shaking his head, he stood up and crossed his arms lightly over his chest. "You're a real comedian, you know that? Seriously, you should take it on the road…"

"Maybe… But with the recent outbreak of cars going rogue, I could be left stranded in the middle of nowhere and _then _where would I be?"

He nodded. "Uh-huh, uh-huh, just keep 'em coming…"

Laughing, she shook her head.

He grinned at her good-naturedly, taking a seat on the edge of her desk and chuckling to himself.

Sobering, she stood from her chair and moved in front of him. "Sam… You know I believe you, right?" She stared at him searchingly. "I mean, yeah, I tease you, but…" She shrugged. "If you say you saw this thing… Then you did."

His smile faded away slowly. "Yeah, I know you do…" He nodded his chin at her computer. "You wouldn't've looked it up for me if you didn't…"

Circling around to stand at his side, she bumped his shoulder. "If this gets around, you realize I won't be the reigning outcast around here… I mean, _I_ was the pariah because I broke that street racing ring, but… Robot cars?" She whistled, shaking her head. "You've got me beat."

He snorted. "Yeah? Maybe when I'm labeled crazy Mikaela will actually remember my name…"

Chloe turned her eyes off, momentarily saddened by the subject change. "Hey…" She stood and motioned behind her with her thumb. "Since you haven't been grounded and dad's missing for the night, why don't we do it up Witwicky-Sullivan style and let loose with a movie night…?" She grinned. "You can even invite Miles over if he promises to stop using the banister as his own personal slide…"

He nodded. "Yeah… That'd be cool…"

"Great." She grinned widely before turning on her heel and leaving the room, her face falling as soon as she was out of sight.

Was it crazy to hope that maybe robot cars would take Sam's mind off the unattainable Mikaela Banes for one afternoon?

_Apparently_.

…

**Washington****, DC**

_Pentagon _

An officer met Keller with news, walking next to him down a hallway, papers in hand. "Special Ops got a thermal snapshot of whatever hit the base in Qatar."

"I want to see it," he demanded.

"Well, the imager was damaged, sir."

Keller took the papers from his hand and frowned down at them.

"The rangers are en-route with the imager, but we also have a security issue…"

The Deputy Director met him, explaining, "Circle logs indicate one of the analysts made a copy of the network intrusion signal."

…

Back at Glen's house, he was putting on his glasses to better assess what Maggie had brought him to work with. "Whoa. The signal strength is through the roof! Where did you say you got this?"

Smirking, she told him, "It hacked the national military air-guard frequency in _less _than a minute."

He turned back to look at her in slack-jawed awe. "_No way_…"

"Yeah."

His fingers tapped away at his keyboard, separating all the different parts, until he found a string pattern, interwoven with symbols he didn't understand. "Looks like there's a message embedded in the signal. Let me work my magic…"

Behind them, Glen's grandmother peeked in through the door to try and see what they were doing.

Glen was able to zero in on individual symbols and run them through a search engine.

The information that came up only confused them further.

"Project Iceman?" Maggie repeated, brows furrowed.

"What's Sector Seven?" Glen wondered, leaning back from his screen.

"Who is Captain Witwicky?"

"Shh, shh," Glen told her, turning to look out the window, where rain was spattering against the pane.

Without warning, his grandmother stomped into the room, demanding, "Are you _playing _those video games again?"

She got no answer as suddenly the front door was kicked in and men baring guns, Kevlar and FBI marked bulletproof vests came bursting into the house.

Glen's cousin watched wide-eyed, alerting, "Cops! Cops!" and making a break for it.

"FBI! Clear right!"

A team swarmed into Glen's room, who screamed as their flashlight hit his face.

His cousin ran across the living room and barreled right through the closed glass door, shattering it on impact.

"Lock it down! Lock it down!" an agent shouted.

Jumping out of the glass, he ran across the back lawn, yelling still, "Whoooaaoow! Cops!"

"Lock it down!"

As he came around the fence, he turned around, throwing his arms in the air as he stood before the pool and shrieked, "Wait! I'm just a cousin! I'm just a cous—"

The FBI agent tackled him right into the water.

Inside, Maggie and Glen were both forced to the ground to be handcuffed.

"Get off my Grandmama's carpet!" Glen hollered. "She don't like nobody on the carpet! Especially police!"

…

**Burbank****, California**

_Chloe's House_

"I _promise _you, Miles… If you get stuck in the banister, _again_, I'm _not _getting you out," Chloe warned, hands on her hips as she stared up at the boy trying to fit his head through the rails. "I'm not calling the fire department—" She held up a finger. "Your parents." She held up a second. "I might not even tell _Sam _you're stuck!" She held a third up for him to see, her eyebrows hiked meaningfully. "_No. One._"

"I'm not gonna get stuck," he assured, wiggling his head to and fro as he tried to squeeze through. "I measured, and I'm tellin' you, Chloe… This one's the widest… I'll _fit!_"

She blinked at him. "I always thought I had a pretty high threshold for _weird_… You make me question that."

Tongue stuck out the side of his mouth, he finally squeezed through and held his hands up, grinning at her brightly. "See! I told you'd I fit!"

Shaking her head, she sighed. "And I told _you_, it wasn't that I didn't think you'd fit… It was getting _out _afterwards you've always had a problem with…"

Ignoring her, hands gripping either baluster beside his head, he shouted. "Sam! _Saaam! _I _did _it! You owe me ten bucks! _Yes!_"

Walking back into the living room from the kitchen, Sam cast his eyes up to where Miles was doing a victory dance, flashing the thumbs-up at them, head still forced between the balusters.

"You bet him _ten dollars _to do that?" She scoffed, waving a hand up at Miles. "And you actually thought that was worth _dancing?_"

Miles frowned. "Money's tight… Every buck counts!"

"Great… Then as soon as you _dislodge _yourself, you can pay for the movies!"

"Aww!" Turning his hands over, he gave Chloe two thumbs down. "Not cool!"

"What are we getting?" Sam asked, looking from Miles to Chloe. "And _how _are we getting it? 'Cause I'm not getting in your car…" He shook his head adamantly.

"Hey! My Caddy is no alien!" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Just because _yours _went on vacation without you, doesn't mean mine has any ulterior motives…"

"You don't _know _that!" He stared at her seriously. "It could be just— Y'know, waiting for the right time… It's like, a—a _spy _or something." He waved his hands around for emphasis. "Like—Like a _super_ car spy that's been slowly gathering intel…"

She raised a brow. "On _what? _The rising price of _gas _and dad's hubcap collection in the _garage?_" Scoffing, she turned on her heel. "We're taking my car!"

"Uh, guys…" Miles called out, struggling to get free.

He went ignored.

"I'm not going!" Sam shook his head. "I'll stand right here and wait for you. I won't even touch anything. I promise. I'll just stand right here, in this big, open, _car-free _living room—" He motioned his arms around in a circle. "And if you're not back in an hour, I'll assume the worst and take up a search for you… It'll probably take awhile, 'cause we can't drive around looking for you, but have _faith_…" He pointed at her. "I'll rescue you eventually!"

Biting her lip to keep from grinning, she tipped her head to look at him in amusement. "Look, Sam…" She walked toward him. "I get that your car went AWOL and it's completely understandable that you're upset… But eventually you're going to have to get back in a car… And why not let it be my trusted Cadillac?" She half-smiled. "If it starts talking Klingon, I give you full permission to tuck and roll!"

"My—My head's really stuck, I… I can't feel my fingers…" Miles muttered.

"Okay, but I get first pick of the movies," he argued, pointing at her seriously.

She held her hands up. "You can even pick the candy!"

He grinned. "Deal, Sullivan."

They started toward the door.

"_Guys!_" Miles hollered, struggling. "C'mon!"

Chloe looked back at him over her shoulder, smirking. "Next time you're not going to stick your head in there, are you?"

He sighed, shoulders slumping. "_No_…"

She narrowed her eyes. "Not even for money?"

Miles looked away. "No…?"

She clucked her tongue. "_Miles!_"

"Fine." He glared. "Not even for money!"

"Right." Chloe shoved the sleeves of her shirt up and climbed the stairs. "Sam, grab that side and pull…"

Rolling his eyes, Sam followed her up. "Still totally worth the ten bucks," he told her.

"Ow!" Miles cried.

He snorted. "We haven't even done anything!"

"Oh… Well, I was just getting prepared…"

"This is gonna be a long night," Chloe sighed.

…

Miles was still rubbing his neck as they walked down the aisles of Blockbuster. "Hey! How about-?"

"We're not getting Taxi!" they chimed back at him.

He frowned. "But _Queen Latifah_, guys!"

Sighing, they looked at each other and then turned around.

"Miles, buddy, I'm doing this because I care…" Sam reached out and shook his friend by his shoulder. "If you make me watch Taxi or Last Holiday or frickin' _Beauty Shop_ one more time…" He waved a finger in his face seriously. "I'm gonna have an intervention and things are gonna get weird, okay?" He shook his head, his eyes wide. "Don't make me bring in your parents, all right? You like Queen Latifah, we get it, but we can't watch them anymore! It's too much!" He held his hands up. "I can _quote _these movies, all right? I'm seventeen, I'm a guy in the prime of my life, don't do this to me!"

Miles looked from him to Chloe, who nodded at him. "Fine… But you're missing out!"

"We should rent _Christine!_" Chloe suggested, face lighting up.

Sam frowned at her. "Why do you have to exploit my pain, huh?" He shook his head. "What'd I ever do to you for this kinda treatment?" He held a hand to his chest. "I've been loyal and funny and I've supported you in all your Scooby Doo investigations and still, _still_, I get your acidic snark!" He walked past her melodramatically. "The _injustice _of it all!"

Chuckling, Chloe followed after him. Gripping his shoulders, she hopped up onto his back. "All right, all right… No Christine!"

Hooking his hands under her knees, he tipped his head back to look at her. "What about Men In Black?"

She grinned at him widely. "Now we're talkin'!"

Squeezing her legs, he ran off down the aisle toward the action movies.

She laughed warmly, gripping her arms around his neck a little tighter.

He didn't even seem to notice Mikaela in the next aisle over.

A tiny spark of hope renewed inside Chloe.

…

Sam was kneeling by the DVD player, going through the movies, when he spotted something out of place. He rolled his eyes. "Hey, Miles! I thought we agreed, man!" He held up the case for Bringing Down the House. "What—What is _this?_"

Miles shrugged. "You said no Last Holiday, Taxi or Beauty Shop…"

"Yeah, but I—I meant no…" Sam took a deep breath and shook his head. "Never mind. Just—No, I don't even—"

"What? It's got Steve Martin in it… He's hilarious."

Sam put the case down. "We're not watching this. You can take it home, okay? We don't wanna know what happens. I don't care how funny it is. You're making me hate Queen Latifah, okay? She was cool, she was funny, but now I'm sick of her. I have nightmares, Miles. I have night terrors and they're all your fault. I see Queen Latifah in my dreams and it's not nice. She's not nice in my dreams, all right?"

Chloe walked into the room with a couple bowls of popcorn and looked between them. "What's going on?"

"This—_He—_" Shaking his head, Sam waved the DVD around. "I can't! I can't even— I'm done! I'm _done_, Miles!" He pointed at him. "We're having an intervention. You won't know when it's coming. It'll just _happen_, okay? So just—" He nodded. "Look out!"

"Hey, is that the one with Steve Martin?" Chloe asked.

Sam frowned up at her. "Don't you turn on me too, Chloe! Come back! Back to the Light side!"

She grinned. "Kidding…" She handed him a bowl of popcorn. "Which one are we watching?"

Putting the bowl in his lap, he grabbed up the stack again. "I dunno… We've got all the Fast and Furious', Alien, Men in Black one and two and, _apparently_, Bringing Down the House…" He rolled his eyes.

Chloe snorted. "Okay, let's do Alien." She waved a finger in the air. "Put 'er in!" Walking back over to the couch, she handed over the other bowl of popcorn to Miles. "I don't wanna vacuum, so try to keep it in the bowl…"

He sat forward eagerly. "Popcorn war!"

"No! No!" Chloe shook her head.

"Okay, target practice though? I mean, _come on!_"

She frowned, eyes narrowing. "_Fine_… But you're vacuuming!"

"Deal!" He hopped up and ran over to the arm chair. "All right, set up!"

Chloe sat back, half-smiling. "You and Sam first, I'll take winner."

"Awesome."

Sam climbed up off the floor and sat down in the other arm chair. He pointed at Miles. "Aim well, buddy!"

"Ready?"

"Aim!" Chloe cheered.

"_Fire!_" they all cried.

Miles shot off a piece of popcorn and Sam maneuvered around, without leaving his seat, to catch it with his mouth.

They missed the first half hour of the movie between laughing, do-overs, and tallying how many shots were legitimate.

…

"Where's the Red Vines?" Miles yelled to them from the kitchen.

"Check the cupboard above the coffee maker!" Chloe shouted back.

Sam walked toward her. "Hey, where's a good place to hide this?" he asked, holding up Bringing Down the House. He glanced at the swinging kitchen door. "Seriously! I'm not doing it again!"

She grinned. "I dunno… I haven't watched a good Queen Latifah movie in at least a _week_…"

He shook his head. "You're not funny…"

"_Miles!_"

"Shh! Shh!" He waved his hands at her. "Stop! Don't!"

"What?" Miles called out.

"Sam is—"

"Nothing!" Sam interrupted, reaching out to cover her mouth. "I'm not anything. Just—Just find those Red Vines!"

"They're not up here…" Miles complained.

"Uh… Check—Check in the cupboard by the fridge… That's where Sullivan Senior hides all the good stuff!" He looked down at her, raising a brow when she licked his palm. "Seriously? That's the best you can—OW!" He yanked his hand back when her teeth made contact. "You almost drew _blood!_"

She rolled her eyes. "I did _not!_"

"Did too!" He waved his hand at her vaguely. "You see that? You broke the skin, _Hannibal__ Lector!_"

She scoffed. "Oh, please…" She raised a brow. "And don't think you've distracted me. I'm telling Miles you were trying to hide his precious _Queen _from him!"

"Hey! Don't play with fire, all right!" He waved the movie at her. "He's _addicted! _And I'm _concerned! _I'm being a good _friend!_"

Chloe pursed her lips. "Is that what we're calling it?" She looked over at the kitchen again. "Then I'm sure he'll agree when he explain it to him calmly."

"Chloe…"

She took a deep breath. "M—"

Sam tackled her, struggling again to cover her mouth. "_Shhhhhh!_"

Laughing, Chloe batted his hands away.

They tumbled back onto the couch with Sam kneeling between her legs. "Don't make me tickle you, Chloe!" He wagged a finger at her. "I _will _resort to desperate measures!"

Her eyes flashed. "You _wouldn't!_"

He tipped his head challengingly.

She stared at him searchingly, before finally tipping her head back. "_Mi —!_"

Sam's hands descended on her sides, tickling mercilessly.

Laughing so hard she was breathless, Chloe wiggled in struggle, kicking her legs.

"St—Stop! S-Sam!"

"Give up!"

"N-_No!_"

"Admit defeat!"

"N-Never!" she laughed, before suddenly turning them sideways until they rolled onto the floor.

As they landed, Chloe fell on top, straddling his waist, pinning his hands to the floor. "Hah!" she declared, chest heaving as she breathed deeply.

Sam stared up at her in mid-laugh, his eyes wide. In that split-second, he completely forgot why they were even wrestling.

Her face was flushed and a smile turned up her lips.

He swallowed tightly, expression relaxing. He slid a hand out from beneath her grip and reached up. He tucked her hair back, his thumb dragging gently down the shell of her ear.

Her breath caught, her eyes staring down at him searchingly.

"I found them!" Miles shouted, running triumphantly back into the room.

Chloe jumped up off Sam, readjusting her shirt awkwardly. "That—That's great!" she stuttered. "Uh, where—Where were they?"

Sam lay on the floor, staring hard at the ceiling a long second before shoving himself up to a seated position. He hunched over, resting his arms on his knees. "Hey, Miles, buddy, what do you say we watch your movie?"

"Really?" he asked excitedly. "Awesome!"

Sam was just hoping he'd be so distracted losing his mind over the Queen Latifah overload that he'd stop thinking about how soft Chloe's skin was.

…

"This is so wrong…" Chloe muttered.

Sam chuckled under his breath. "Movie night rules…" he reminded, uncapping his Sharpie. "First one to fall asleep gets drawn on…" He shrugged. "Miles knew what he was getting into…"

She grinned at him. "You're a tiny bit evil, Sam Witwicky…"

"It's equally balanced by my boyish charm," he promised, leaning in and drawing a squiggly circle on Miles' forehead.

"Debatable," she answered, as she drew a tiny mustache above Miles' lip.

"_Awesome_," Sam told her, peering down. He held a hand up and they slow-mo high fived so the noise wouldn't wake Miles up.

Laughing softly, they returned to doodling on his face.

A few seconds in however, Miles suddenly moved, brows furrowing.

They paused, holding their breaths, waiting. But when we smacked his lips and continued snoring, they got back to work.

"This stuff washes off, right?" Sam wondered.

"With a little extra scrubbing, sure…" She frowned, turning the pen over. "I _think_…" She read the pen and widened her eyes. "Oh, no…"

"What?" Sam looked from her pen to his. "It's not permanent, is it? 'Cause his mom will _kill _me if she—"

Chloe smirked at him.

His worry immediately fed. "Okay. Funny…" He nodded. "You're hilarious. Really!" He silently clapped his hands.

She brushed invisible dirt off her shoulder. "Be jealous."

"Oh, I am…" He nodded.

Miles shifted again and they pulled back.

Chloe capped her pen. "All right, I think my work here is done…" She hopped off the couch. "I'm gonna get the camera!" She flashed her eyebrows at him.

Sam watched her leave the room in her favorite red pajamas. He sat back in the corner of the couch and chewed his lip, glancing at the door to the kitchen and then over to Miles. "Hey, so I know you're comatose, but… Is it just me or does Chloe look cuter than usual?" He nodded. "No, yeah, I know… We're just friends. _Best _friends! But…" He shook his head. "She's cute, right? Pretty?" He nodded. "Beautiful…"

Miles gave a loud snore.

"And she's quirky and funny and smart and I'm babbling. I know I'm babbling. I'm not—I mean, it's not like I _like _Chloe… I mean, well, I _like _her, she's my friend, but I don't—I don't _like-like _her, right? 'Cause that would be… It'd be totally…"

Chloe walked back into the room, waving a camera. "I say we frame it and give it to him for his birthday next month."

"Perfect," Sam finished. "It'd be perfect."

"Right?" Chloe said, thinking he was answering her.

"Yeah…" He nodded, clearing his throat. "Yeah."

…

It was two in the morning before Chloe started dozing off.

The lights were out and MIB 2 was winding down. She had her head resting on her arm against the couch, legs tucked up beneath her. Her eyes fluttered open a few more times before finally settling closed.

Miles was still snoring away in the armchair, head hanging awkwardly over the side.

Sam was sprawled out on the floor, arms crossed loosely over his chest, leaning against the other armchair. He was half-asleep and watching the blue light of the TV play over Chloe's face, highlighting the hollows and the curves of her cheeks. He just kept thinking back to what his dad said the other day, when he asked him why he and Chloe weren't dating and how he didn't have an answer. The only one Sam could come up with now was that they were friends. _Best _friends. He and Miles went back to when they were toddlers and that was a strong bond between bros, but… Ever since Chloe came into town, Sam just felt like that piece that was missing was _found_. She got all his jokes and she threw out a whole new level of her own and she was just—She was the greatest person he'd ever known. Like, she'd do _anything _to help people. And she was always there to help pick him up when he felt like crap. When Trent and his buddies went out of their way to make him feel even less cool than he already knew he was, she was there to remind him that it didn't matter what anybody else thought. And he needed that. He needed to know that he was good enough just the way he was. 'Cause after spending eleven years chasing a girl who couldn't even remember his name, he was starting to think maybe he'd been looking in all the wrong places for too long.

Or maybe it was just the sleep deprivation talking…

He'd figure it out in the morning, he decided.

…

"Hey…"

Sam opened his eyes slowly, blinking rapidly against the sun beating down on him.

Chloe was smiling down at him. Her eyes looked even greener than usual, fringed in long, black lashes. Her hair was lit up brightly, making it look like spun gold, and it fell across her face.

Sam grinned lazily back.

_Huh… _Was she always that pretty?

Her lips moved and his brow furrowed. "What?"

She raised an amused brow. "I _said_, it's almost ten and Miles has to vacuum the floor. So _you_… need to get up."

Yawning, Sam leaned up on his elbows and took a look around. "_Ten?_" He shoved to his feet. "Shit, I didn't tell my dad I was staying over! I was gonna sneak back in before he got up…" He searched around for his shoes.

"What's the big deal?" Chloe's brows furrowed as she walked toward the front door and plucked up his sneakers. "He knows we're friends…" She shrugged. "I'm probably the best influence in your life." She pointed at Miles who was trying to walk up the banister in his bare feet.

"Okay, true, you make a very good point," Sam admitted, taking his shoes and trying to balance on one foot as he pulled one on. "But my mom thinks we're dating, which means my dad thinks hanky-panky is involved, which means my parents think I was probably having some crazy orgy all night at your house and I'm already in deep over getting my dad to bail me out of jail, this would just be the topping on a really bad weekend!" he babbled, struggling with his second shoe until he nearly fell over.

Chloe caught him. "_Okay_…" She frowned. "Pretending any of that made sense… And that you didn't just use the word hanky-panky like a sixty-year-old man…" She reached for the door. "I assume you're walking?"

"Running," he said, nodding. "If I get more chores done, maybe he won't say anything!"

She raised a brow. "Doubtful…"

"Wish me luck!" He backed out the door and nearly stumbled down the stairs.

She nodded. "You'll need it…" She waved as he turned around and jogged across her lawn.

Just as she was about to close the door, he doubled-back. "Hey!"

"Yes?" She smiled amusedly.

"I, uh… Last night was fun…" he said, eyes darting around nervously.

"It was."

"We should do it again… soon… Maybe, uh…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe without Miles or something…"

She glanced back at the boy still monkeying around on her banister. "Oh, but he provides so much amusement…"

"Right, yeah, of course," Sam sputtered, hands on his hips as his head bobbed agreeably. "We're a trio, of friends, nothing more, that's—that's cool. It's okay, totally fine, we don't have to change anything."

Chloe stared at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, no, I—I'm fine." He held his hands up. "I'm good. Great. I'm _great!_"

"And late," she reminded, nodding slowly. "Remember?"

"Yes! I—Going! I'm going!" He waved at her again before turning around and running off down the road. Out of earshot, he muttered to himself. "Stupid… That was stupid…"

Shaking his head, he told himself that platonic was good. It was exactly what he wanted with Chloe. He might have even convinced himself that was all he'd ever expected and that, for a minute there, he hadn't thought maybe they could've been something really awesome together.

**[Next**: Part IV.**]**


	4. Part IV

**Title**: Transformers: Heroic Hearts  
><strong>Category<strong>: Smallville/Transformers  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Humor/Action/Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Chloe Sullivan/Sam Witwicky  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Giant spoilers, violence, strong language, sexuality  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Whole chunks of the movie Transformers (2007) were rewritten here for coherence, so any of those who haven't seen the movies would be able to understand. I take no credit for any parts recognizable to the brand or the movies themselves.  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 8,950  
><strong>Overall Status<strong>: Complete  
><strong>Summary<strong>: (AU) All Sam wanted was a car and the girl of his dreams. He gets both; only neither are who or what he expected.

**_Transformers: Heroic Hearts_**  
>-Novel-<p>

**IV.**

**Burbank****, California**

Sam spent most of his day in his bedroom, lounging around in his boxers. After racing home from Chloe's, only to find it completely empty, he did all of his chores in the blind hope that his dad wouldn't notice or mention that he'd been out all night at a girl's house. And not just any girl, either, 'cause apparently Chloe was exactly who his parents wanted him to be dating. Proven by how often they dropped elephant-sized hints about how great she was and how he was missing his chance. Subtlety was not in the Witwicky nature. And he got it, he did. Chloe was special. He'd known that from the start. She was just so special he wasn't going to risk it for anything.

Curled up lazily in his bed, Sam shot basketballs into the hoop attached to the support beam a few feet away, just out of reach of the late-afternoon sun, listening vaguely to the news in the background.

"_It was an awesome spectacle here an hour ago when over forty C-17 s lifted off of this very base. We're not told where they're going_…" the reporter informed.

With a sigh, Sam finally kicked himself up and out of bed and made his way to the bathroom.

With the radio blasting in from his bedroom, Sam danced under the shower-spray, doing the running-man as Fergie's _Glamorous _started up.

_If you ain't got no money, take yo' broke ass home!_

He twirled around and scrubbed shampoo into his hair.

Sitting on the floor of the bathroom, Mojo howled along with him as he sang.

_G-L-A-M—_

_O-R-O-U-S, yeah…_

"Whoo! Sing it out, Mojo!"

Tail wagging excitedly, he hopped up unto his back legs and barked at him.

"Yeah, buddy!" Sam laughed.

Swiping soap from his eyes, he rapped along with Fergie,

_I'm not clean, I'm not pristine,  
>I'm no queen, I'm no machine,<br>I still go to Taco Bell,  
>Drive through, raw as hell…<em>

When Luda started his part, Sam reached down and turned the taps off.

Hopping out of the shower, he wiggled his toes in the mat thrown down on the floor and wrapped a towel around his waist.

Stopping at the mirror, he checked out his face from every angle. "What d'you think, huh, Mo? Y'think I need a shave?" He slapped his cheeks a couple times and frowned. "Nah, I'm good…" He whistled under his breath as he walked into his bedroom, leaving wet footprints behind.

Mojo ran around underfoot, but when Sam shook his wet hair at him, his Chihuahua turned tail and took off downstairs, the clunk of his leg cast a constant thump.

Sam snorted to himself.

After getting dressed, he rubbed his hair dry with his towel before tossing it back over his shoulder to land haphazardly amongst the mess that made up his floor.

Jogging down the stairs, he hung his favorite Strokes shirt over his shoulder, and snapped his fingers absently.

When he walked into the kitchen, Mojo was standing on a stool next to the sink.

"What up, Mo?" he greeted.

The news blared away on the tiny kitchen TV, "_The government has been very quiet about what's going on but in our vision—_"

He walked to the fridge in search of the milk, wanting an afternoon snack of his favorite cereal, muttering under his breath.

"_They were headed directly towards North Korea_..."

Mojo hopped up onto the counter and leaned himself out the window, growling at an unseen enemy.

When he started yapping, Sam called back, "Stop with the barking, Mojo. _Please?_" He carried the milk jug to the opposite counter.

Outside the window, Sam's Camaro rolled into the yard, revving its engine.

Recognizing the sound, Sam gasped, dropping the milk jug to the ground. Eyes wide, he shook his head. "No!" He ran to the window, gripping the counter as he leaned out the window and saw the familiar yellow and black car sitting plainly in his yard.

Seconds later, he had his cell phone in hand and was hiding in the dining room, bent low. Dialing, he waited impatiently, muttering under his breath, "Come on, come on, come on…"

"Hello?"

"Chloe!" he exclaimed, shoulders slumping in relief. "Listen to me. _Listen_. My car is back, okay? It—It's _back!_" He scooped up Mojo and held him tight to his chest.

"You're kidding," she muttered.

"No, I'm not—" He rolled his eyes and slapped his phone against his forehead. "Satan's Camaro is in my yard, okay?" He shrieked, "It's _stalking_ me!"

"O-Okay, just…" She sighed. "I'm on my way, all right?"

"What? What? No! No, you can't come here!" he yelled.

She scoffed. "_Why?_"

"Why? _Why?_" He shook his head. "Uh, maybe because I have a robot car that wants to use me as its pod person, okay? And I don't— I don't want it to get _you_ too!" He snorted. "Who would rescue me? _Miles?_" He scoffed. "I can't leave my fate in the hands of Miles, Chloe! I _can't!_"

"That's… sweet, in a really weird way. But, Sam, seriously, I'll come and get you and we'll…" She paused, humming thoughtfully. "Hey, can you _reason _with a robot car, do you think?"

Closing his eyes, he let his head fall back against the wall. "I don't—I don't _know_. I— Look, I'm gonna get out of here and you… _You _meet me somewhere where cars don't drive on their own, okay?"

"Right…" she drawled. "Could you be more _specific?_"

"Okay, uh, uh…" He struggled to think of a place, shaking his head and licking his lips. "Oh, okay!" He snapped his fingers. "You know that place we went after I didn't make it on the football team and I was released from the hospital after that whole concussion thing and you wanted to cheer me up but you're really competitive and instead of letting me win air hockey, you kicked my ass?"

"The arcade downtown?"

"Yeah! I-I-It's _public_ an-and the police station is just around the corner!" he explained, nodding rapidly, eyes darting from each window to the next. "I'll meet you there!"

"Okay… But, how are you going to _get _there?" she wondered. "Isn't your bike still _with _the police?"

He sighed, chewing his lip. "I'll find a way…"

"Okay. I'll be there."

"Okay. Great. Thanks. I…" He swallowed tightly. "Hey, if my car kills me, I just want you to know—"

"Sam," she interrupted. "Don't take it personally, but I highly doubt a robot car would go through all this trouble to _kill _you…"

"You ruin moments, you know that?" he asked, brows hiked high. "Seriously, I think it's a defect of character o-or a disease or something, you just can't let us have a moment."

"Yeah, well, take it up with me when you're not outrunning _Christine_, okay?"

He snorted. "Ten minutes," he told her.

With that, he hung up.

Thirty seconds later, he was racing across his front yard with his mother's pink bike; basket, tassels, and all…

Of course, as he road quickly down the sidewalk, his car was just behind him, eating up space quickly.

"Stop!" he shrieked. "No, no, no…"

It didn't matter how fast he pedaled or which road he took, his car was right on his heels. He turned off his street and onto the main road leading in to downtown and weaved in and out of traffic, but his Camaro kept up, maneuvering just as easily.

As he was looking over his shoulder, he failed to notice where the cement was uneven and he flipped right over the handlebars of his bike, landing hard on his back.

"Oh my God!" someone gasped.

"_Sam?_" a familiar voice called out.

Sam turned his head, grunting painfully, and spotted Mikaela Banes sitting with a group of girls just outside of the Burger King. "Oh, hi…" he managed.

She looked from him to the pink bike mangled behind him. "That was, uh, that was really..." She frowned, her brow cocking, and added awkwardly, "_awesome._"

Gathering his strength, he shoved to his feet and replied, "Uh, well, it felt awesome…"

"Are you okay?" she worried, tipping her head.

"I'm not okay, all right? I'm losing my mind a little bit..." Rushing over to his bike, he grabbed it up and told her dismissively, "I'm getting chased by my car right now. Got to go." Groaning, he climbed back on the pink monstrosity.

As Sam continued racing off toward the arcade, his Camaro followed after him.

Meanwhile, Chloe was just about to turn down the main road when she was cut off by a speeding black police car that came to a screeching halt directly in front of her before racing off again in a flash of lights.

She raised a brow and wondered if maybe Sam and his robot car were making a bigger scene than she expected. She drove after it, keeping to the speeding limit, just in case.

Sam looked back over his shoulder as he took a shortcut under the bridge; he wasn't far now and he could feel hope burning in his chest. Or, maybe that was his lungs finally giving out, he wasn't sure. What he did know was that the arcade wasn't far, which meant _Chloe _wasn't far. And he didn't know why, it could have just been her extensive background in all things weird, but he felt like getting to her meant he might just get some clarity on what the _hell _was going on! And safety, too. Since she'd managed to outlive all the crazy shit that had happened to her, he figured she was _his_ best chance at survival too.

Riding across smooth pavement, he looked back when he heard the rumble of his car, and groaned.

Hitting the brakes, he skidded the back wheel out from beneath him and decided to try hiding behind one of the many vehicles, some abandoned while others were just parked illegally, hoping maybe his car would just keep going.

When he heard the siren in the distance, hope bloomed warm in his chest. He turned his head to see a black and white police car roll slowly down the middle.

"Oh, great. Cops," he breathed in relief.

With blue and red lights flashing, the cop car rolled up toward him, engine revving. White scrawl along the side, unseen by Sam, read, _To punish and enslave_.

"Officer!" Sam exclaimed, crossing the space between them on the bike. "Listen!"

But just as he reached the side of the car, the driver's door swung open and knocked him clear off his bike.

Landing hard on his side, his face smacking against the pavement, he groaned, "Oh that hurt…"

When the door closed, he rolled onto his back and carefully stood up. "Listen to me!" he panted, leaning against the hood of the car. "Thank God you're here!" He waved his shaking hands and said, "I've had the worst day ever! I've been— I've been _followed_ here on my mother's bike!" He pointed to the mangled pink bike, his expression screwed up tight. "_Right?_ And my car's right there—" He pointed to the waiting Camaro on the outskirts, "—and it's been following me here!" He waved his hand severely. "So get out of the car!" He slapped his hand down on the hood a couple times.

The car rushed him, tires screeching, and Sam jumped backwards out of its reach before stumbling and falling back on his butt. "No! Stop!" He held a hand up defensively as the car lurched at him again. "Oh, God. Okay, okay!" As it jumped again, he put his feet up on the front bumper and shrieked fearfully, "Okay, all right! Okay! I'm _sorry!_ I'm— _Whoah!_" His feet fell, his arms waving defensively.

The car just kept coming though, moving a few inches at a time, revving angrily.

"I didn't mean to hit your car!" he tried.

He was shoved back once more, knocking over a stool and a box set amongst the junk behind him.

"Look! Okay, _look, look, look!_"

Suddenly, the headlights plunged free and razor sharp prongs surrounded it.

"Oh my, _oh—_! Whoa, whoa, whoa—!"

It rushed him once more, bringing the edges close to his face.

"Stop, stop!" he screamed, kicking with his legs. "Please! Okay, what do you want from me?"

At those magic words, everything stopped.

The headlights retracted back into the car slowly.

Sam panted in relief. "Okay…"

Before he could relax too much, however, the car began to transform, readjusting and molding, standing as it formed legs and arms and a steel torso. A head formed on robotic, steel shoulders, with piercing red dots for eyes. With an inhuman roar, Barricade leaned toward him.

"Oh, God, no!" Sam exclaimed, his eyes widening. He turned over onto his stomach and pushed up with his knees until he was racing away. Arms pumping at his sides, he ran toward the other end, where he could see the street and the cars rushing past. He just needed to get somewhere public, where people could see, he told himself.

"Oh, shit! Oh, shit, shit, shit! Oh, God! Oh! Shit!"

Behind him, Barricade gave chase, one of his arms reading _Police _down the length. He swiped at Sam, missing and smashing a cement pillar in the process.

Hearing the crunch and feeling the air at his back as he was just _barely _spared, Sam gave a high-pitched scream of fear, "Aaaahhh!"

But he was catching up to Sam, his stomping footsteps too close to ignore, and Sam couldn't help but look back over his shoulder.

Barricade took another swipe, this time managing to knock him through the air.

"Oh _shiiiit_…" he yelled as he flew above, finally landing on a cracked windshield of an abandoned car.

He stared up, wide-eyed as the robot came stomping toward him. "It's a bad dream," he muttered under his breath.

With a giant metal hand, Barricade gripped the bottom of the car Sam was on and gave it a shake. Leaning over him, he demanded, "Are you username 'LadiesMan-two-one-seven'?" He slammed a fist down on the road next to the car.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"_Are you username 'LadiesMan-two-one-seven'?_" he yelled.

"Yeah…" Sam muttered in confusion.

He leaned in so close Sam could make out the gold inlay around Barricade's mouth. "Where is eBay item 21153?"

He stared in shock. "_Huh?_"

Barricade slammed a fist down on the car next to his leg so hard that the tires beneath blew out and the windows shattered. "Where are the glasses?"

Shocked into action, Sam shoved himself up to his feet and ran up and across the hood of the car.

Behind him, the robot roared and flipped the car over and out of the way just as Sam jumped to the pavement below.

Again, he was running for the road ahead while the robot stomped viciously behind him in pursuit.

Just as he was about to reach the street ahead, he spotted it. A familiar Cadillac. For a moment, hope sprung blindly in his chest. But then, he realized he'd be putting her right in harm's way. It was different with his car; it had been stalking him with no real damage done. But this… This police car hybrid was already tossing him around like a ragdoll and asking questions about things while nearly crushing him. He couldn't have Chloe in its line of fire too!

But just as he made that decision, she spotted him, and turned the wheel on her car wildly, driving it right through to the underpass.

She came to a screeching halt and stared at him, wide-eyed, her jaw slack. "What the hell happened to you?"

"You gotta go! You—" He shook his head, looking back over his shoulder and waving his arms at her. "It-It's coming and it wants something. I—It wants the glasses and I don't have— I don't _have _the glasses and it just—"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down." She hopped out of her car and reached for him. "What are you _talking _about?"

"There's no _time!_" He grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward the car. "You gotta get in and drive and just—Just go anywhere but here and you gotta—"

She stopped, not letting him maneuver her back toward the open car door. "Hey!" she shouted, getting his attention.

He shut up and stared at her wide-eyed.

"Where's the killer robot car?" she asked plainly.

As if in answer, it came rushing through the pillars at them, leaning down and upturning a pair of cars in its way.

Chloe's eyes widened. "Holy shit," she muttered, stumbling back into Sam as her breath left her suddenly.

"Run," he said, backing up. He turned her around and grabbed her hand. "We gotta _run!_"

She didn't argue. Gripping his hand tightly, she ran at his side, panic and adrenaline making her chest ache and her body vibrate.

Behind them, their pursuer gave a wild growl and a crunch of metal had Chloe looking back, only to see her beloved Cadillac beneath Barricade's giant, metal foot.

Dizzy, she stumbled, heart hammering in her chest.

"Chloe!" Sam yelled, stopping with her and swiveling his head toward her worriedly.

Her brow wrinkled as she turned to him.

He leaned toward her, staring searchingly. "I got you," he promised, squeezing her hand.

A familiar black and yellow Camaro suddenly rolled up, spinning to a squealing halt and doing a u-turn to come back to them. The passenger door swung open invitingly.

Sam stared, relief washing over his face. "We have to get in the car," he muttered to himself.

"Last I checked, they were turning into homicidal _robots!_" Chloe argued, shaking her head.

He looked back at her grimly. "Do you trust me?"

She swallowed tightly before finally nodding her head. "_Fine._ But if we're enslaved and somehow made into _tail pipes_," She shook her head. "I will _never _forgive you!"

He snorted, rolling his eyes before he rushed into the car, dragging her with him. He rolled into the driver's seat with Chloe sitting uncertainly at his right.

The door shut and the car moved into gear before taking off, tires spinning beneath it.

Behind them, Barricade barrel-rolled across the dirt, and seeing they were getting away, he gave an angry roar before jumping into the air and transforming back into his cop-car disguise.

Sam found himself hoping desperately that Chloe hadn't just misplaced her trust in him. With a homicidal robot on their tail and putting all of his own trust in a car he'd previously thought was stalking him, he couldn't be sure. He was about to find out though.

Chloe squinted as they drove through a dust cloud onto an empty street, lined with old warehouses, many of them abandoned.

Sam turned in his seat to see the cop car chasing after them before looking back out onto the road. There was a part of him that wanted to sit down and grab the wheel, but the car maneuvered around all on its own, no help necessary. And he didn't want to think about that too much, because a very large part of him was still desperately hoping he was dreaming. This was all some seriously elaborate dream. And he would wake up, on Chloe's floor, and his car was stolen by some human jerk and never turned into a robot and everything was cool. It was normal. There was nothing _crazy _going on at all…

That didn't stop him from hyperventilating, however.

Chloe shook her head. "I always knew I'd be in a car chase, I just figured there'd be an actual _police officer _in the driver's seat…" Her eyes narrowed. "What do you think's in there…? _Anything?_"

Sam turned to look at her, his brows furrowed. "We're not playing _Clue_, okay? It wasn't the robot in the police car with its headlights!"

"Okay, you need to calm down," she told him, shaking her head.

"Calm down? _Calm down?_" he shrieked. He waved a hand behind them. "Do you understand what's happening right now? _Huh?_"

"Queen of the Weird, remember?" She rolled her eyes before turning over to her knees and staring out the back windshield. "No offense to your game plan, but weren't you just saying _your _car was the stalker?" She looked around meaningfully.

"So I got it wrong…" He shrugged, gripping the headrest tightly. "What if… What if he's the good guy and _that's_—" He pointed at the cop car swerving along behind them, red and blue lights flashing once more, "That's the bad guy and— and _I dunno_, I just…" His eyes widened, brows hiked high. "I saw it turn into some weird robot thing and figured it _had _to be bad, okay? Car's don't do that! They're not _supposed _to do that!" he exclaimed.

"Agreed… But it's happened, _is _happening, and we just to figure out an escape plan, all right?"

"Right. Yeah, okay…" He nodded his head rapidly, licking his lips.

But he couldn't think straight; he had so many questions and no answers and he really, really didn't want this to be happening.

Sam closed his eyes tight and tried to clear his head. He sat down in his seat and took a deep breath, but when he opened his eyes, he realized they were driving right toward a warehouse, with no sign of turning and no where _to _turn. "Chloe…" The closer they got, the more panicked he became. "_Chloe! _Chloe-Chloe-Chloe!" he hollered, reaching over and gripping the sleeve of her shirt.

She turned around to see and her eyes widened. "Oh, shit…"

Sam slunk down into the driver's seat and cried out like a prayer, "We're not gonna die! We're not gonna die!"

Chloe dropped down to her butt and reached for her seatbelt, but the best she could do was to hug it to her chest as they crashed through a multi-tone window, sending shards of glass everywhere.

Sam was gripping the door with one hand, while the other was pressed to the side of the passenger seat, his mouth ajar as he panted fearfully.

The cop car followed after them as they swerved around support beams, driving through a wall of wooden crates and boxes before tail-spinning violently.

"What—What the—" Sam looked around wildly. "We're alive…" He laughed hysterically. "_We're alive!_"

Chloe sat up, peering around wonderingly. She breathed a sigh of relief and let her head fall back. "Never getting in another car again…" she muttered under her breath.

While Barricade was still stuck behind them, they took off in the opposite direction and right out of the building once more.

The sun was setting as they maneuvered around factories and warehouses.

As the red and blue flashing lights reflected ahead, the Camaro backed into a shaded spot and cut both the engine and its lights.

A familiar click echoed through the car and Chloe's eyes landed on the door.

Sam noticed the same thing and started digging at the lock with his finger before trying the handle. "We're locked in!" He shoved at the door with his shoulder.

Chloe shook her head. "Break the window!" She turned over onto her knees and started searching for something they could use.

"Wait, _what?_" Sam turned to her. "I paid two-grand for this car!"

She turned back to him, glaring. "_Seriously? _Your biggest concern right now is that I might break a _window?_" She shoved back up front and leaned in close to him, gripping the front of his shirt in her fist. "Listen to me, Sam… Huge props to the stalker-car for getting us out of a sticky situation, but if you think I'm about to be enslaved by _any _robot race just because you don't want to wreck your _precious _car…" She shook her head. "I plan to be a Pulitzer Prize winning investigative reporter for The Daily Plane and nothing, not even a _robot invasion_, is going to stop me." She stared at him searchingly. "So help me get out of this car before I start _kicking _the windows out!"

Sam stared up at her, brows hiked. "Wait, _The Daily Planet?_" He frowned. "That's in _Metropolis…_"

She sighed, letting him go as she turned around to start digging around in the back again. "I see you've passed Geography… I'm very proud of you," she said mockingly.

He rolled his eyes, turning in his seat. "No, it's just… I thought you were coming to Princeton with me…"

She paused and pushed herself up to look at him, brows wrinkled. "Sam… You know I've always wanted to work at The Daily Planet…"

"Well, _yeah_, but… I just thought… I mean, it's _Princeton_…" He stared at her. "I thought it'd be me and you in college, right?"

Her eyes turned away. "Well… The chances of Miles getting into Princeton _are _pretty small…" she mused.

He snorted and slumped back into his seat. Gripping the steering wheel, he licked his lips. "So Metropolis, huh?"

"We've still got a year…" she reminded, tipping her head to look at him. "You know… _If _we live through this robot thing…"

"Yeah. Yeah…" Clearing his throat, he scratched his ear. "It's like a day's drive, right? That's not too bad…"

Her eyebrows rose faintly, lips curling in a smile. "Yeah. What's one day between friends, _really?_"

He nodded. "First things first…" Sam reached for the ignition and turned the key, hoping maybe he could take control. He sighed when it made a grinding noise, refusing to turn over. "The car won't start…" He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. With a sigh, he searched the area in front of them. "Least we ditched the monster, right?"

She frowned. "I'm sure right now would be a great time to be optimistic, but all I can think about is the fact that we're trapped in a car at least _somewhat _resembling the _monster robot _that just attacked us… Sorry if my 'lets look at the bright side' meter is a little _off _right now…" she whisper-shouted.

"Shh! Sh-Sh-Shhh!" he told her, pressing a finger to his lips as he spotted the police car passing the street in front of them.

She slunk down lower in her seat, gripping the edges of it until her knuckles went white.

The police car stopped and Sam swallowed tightly. "Okay…" His eyes darted to the keys. "Time to start…"

The ignition turned but didn't start right away. A second try had it roaring to life before it sped forward, tires squealing. They drove right past the back-end of the cop car and across a bridge that lead to a deserted chemical plant. As it hit the brakes and spun around, the door flew open and the sudden stopping of the car forced both Sam and Chloe to roll right out and onto the dirt and gravel.

She groaned at the impact of him landing on her back.

"Sorry!" He shoved to his feet and helped her up.

Chloe started to dust herself off, but was quickly distracted.

Right in front of them, the Camaro transformed, growing in size and gaining legs and arms of its own. The chipped yellow paint stood out against the black and silver wires, cogs and metal that made up its insides.

She stumbled backwards, staring up wide-eyed at what used to be Sam's car. "Wow…"

The cop car raced across the bridge toward them, engine revving angrily.

The robot-Camaro took a step back and Sam reached out and grabbed Chloe's hand, pulling her back and readying himself to start running again.

Chloe watched, fascinated, as the cop-car transformed mid-air into a robot as well, kicking Sam's car in the head.

As it tumbled backwards, rolling across pavement and sparking, Sam and Chloe jumped out of its way, backing up and bending low to avoid being hurt.

A spinning ball of spikes formed on Barricade's hand before suddenly detaching and landing on the ground, forming a smaller, skeleton-like robot. Frenzy jibbered at them, narrowing his blue eyes before lunging in their direction.

Chloe and Sam took off running as Barricade started toward Sam's car, which had managed to stand back up and in front of them in defense.

"_Swing it, swing it, rah!_" Barricade growled before throwing his arm out and knocking Sam's car off its feet again.

Sam pulled Chloe out of the way of the flying robot and they started in the other direction, ducking as his car hit a silo in the distance, knocking over a telephone pole and sending sparks and debris flying. Barricade followed after it, wrestling across the pavement.

Chloe and Sam were outrunning Frenzy, until he managed to grab Sam's foot and trip him.

Rolling onto his back, Sam kicked at the robot clinging to his ankle and climbing up his leg with his spiky metal appendages.

"Oh! He's got me! He's got me!" Sam grunted.

Chloe ran back for him. She grabbed Frenzy from the back and tried to pull him off, but he swung an arm back, slicing at her.

"Ow! _Son of a_…" She stumbled back, her sleeve sliced wide and her arm bleeding. Realizing she wasn't going to be able to get him off that easily, she promised Sam, "I'll be right back!"

"Right ba—" He shook his head. "No-no-no! You can't!"

"Just hold him off!" she shouted.

Frenzy immediately returned to climbing up Sam as he tried to wiggle out of reach. "He's going to kill me!" The more Sam struggled, his hands reaching and clawing at the pebble-covered ground beneath him, the more Frenzy tried to keep him from getting away, eventually pulling his jeans right down his waist, trapping him at his ankles.

Turning over onto his back, Sam kicked his jeans off and Frenzy away. While the silver robot rolled across the ground, Sam jumped to his feet and started running.

Not far away, Chloe was searching around for something to help, before finally stopping next to a shed where an emergency case was anchored to the wall.

She smirked at the writing that read, _Break glass in case of emergency._

"Definitely counts," she muttered to herself.

Using the tiny hammer on the side, she covered her face with her arm and followed direction.

Reaching inside, careful not to cut herself, she grabbed out the supplied axe.

Meanwhile, Frenzy took a leap and landed on Sam's back, knocking him off his feet and right into a fence that gave way under the pressure. The both of them rolled down a rocky dirt hill, only stopping as they reached a second, sturdier chain-link fence.

As Sam stood up, the spazzy robot jumped onto his back once more, only to be tossed to the ground angrily. "Get off!" Sam grunted.

Rolling back to his feet, Frenzy bounced back and forth on his feet before he rushed Sam again, who tried to shield himself from the attack.

While Frenzy pinned him to the fence, Sam's hands waved wildly trying to shove him off.

Not far in the distance, Chloe ran down the hill, axe in hand.

Frenzy took a shot, landing it on Sam's forehead and momentarily stunning him.

"Where is it? Where is it?" he chittered.

Sam, not hearing him, cried out in pain and kept pushing back against the pressure of the robot's metallic arms.

"Duck!" Chloe warned.

Sam reared his head back and out of the way.

Suddenly, the axe came down, slicing easily through Frenzy's extended arms.

With a cry of pain, Frenzy fell back, but Chloe kept swinging, chopping off his legs and torso and finally his head.

Behind her, Sam was cheering, "Get it, get it, get it!"

Panting, Chloe let the axe hang heavy at her side and stared down at the mess of metal limbs.

Motioning to her split sleeve, she told him, "This was a new shirt, you little jerk!"

Frenzy chattered away, his head falling apart from the rest of his body and bouncing as if to try and get away.

"Not so tough without a head, are you?" Sam asked, taking a run toward him and kicking his head far off into the distance.

Frenzy's replying scream could be heard as he soared through the night sky.

A panting Sam, put his hands to his hips and turned back to Chloe. "Nice work… For a second there, I thought you'd left me…"

She scoffed, raising a brow. "We have to work on your _trust _issues, Sammy…" she teased.

He laughed shortly but cut himself off when he noticed her bleeding arm. "Hey…" He reached out, fingering the tear in her sleeve. "You're bleeding…"

She looked down and shrugged. "It's nothing."

"It's _blood!_ Blood's not nothing. It's _something_. It means that—that _thing… hurt _you." He stared at her searchingly. "Is that all he did?" He started circling her. "You got all your fingers and toes?"

She grinned at him. "All present and accounted for…" She raised a brow. "_You _on the other hand seem to be missing some _pants_…"

Expression widening, Sam looked down at himself. "Oh, uh, yeah, I—I can explain. There— The tiny robot dude, he—" He waved his hands around for emphasis. "And he was climbing and clawing and there was just—I had to kick them off, y'know? To get _him _off me and it just—"

Her laughter stopped him. "All right, okay, no judgment…" She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "I lost a tiny bit of blood, you lost a pair of jeans, we're practically even…"

He snorted. "Yeah, all right…" He turned his eyes up the hill. "You hear that?"

She frowned. "What?"

"It's silent…" He nodded. "Let's go check it out..." He jerked his chin down the way and reached for her hand.

Chloe glanced at it momentarily before letting his fingers slide between hers.

They raced off along the fence line.

Minutes later, Sam and Chloe stared uphill to where they could see his car, in robot form, standing tall amongst smoke and security lights.

It walked toward them, retracting one of its spinning cannon arms.

Breathing heavily, she said, "So just your average homicidal robot or…?"

"Robot, _definitely_," he decided, his eyes never moving from the giant, yellow, avenging angel. "But like a different, you know, like a _super-advanced_... robot." He nodded thoughtfully. "It's probably Japanese. Yeah, yeah, it's definitely Japanese.

She snorted. "I think you're thinking too small here, Sam…"

His brows furrowed. "Whatever it is… I think it wants to talk…" He started toward the dirt hill.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the whole reason my Cadillac is currently in a million little pieces because you were _scared _of your stalker robot car?"

He nodded, licking his lips. "Yeah, but that was before…" He shook his head. "I don't think it wants to hurt us... It would have done that already."

"Newsflash, we _are _hurt…" Her eyes widened. "All joking aside, that mini-robot took a chunk of my arm and you're not _just_ missing pants, but you're pretty beat up…"

"I'll live," he muttered, moving slowly closer. Swallowing tightly, he told her, "I think it wants something from me."

She sighed, following after him. "Yeah, you mentioned something about the _glasses_…" She shook her head, frowning.

"The cop car, the bad dude, he was talking about my eBay page…" he explained.

"All your grandpa's stuff?" she asked, nearly losing her footing in the dirt.

He reached back and steadied her, holding tight to her hand. "You all right?

She stared at him a long second and then turned her eyes to the robot. "Depends on your definition," she muttered.

Sam joined her in looking up at his car-turned-robot-champion. "Can you talk?" he shouted up at him.

"_XM Satellite Radio— Digital cable brings you— Columbia Broadcasting System_," it replied in static-ridden voice clips.

Sam looked from the car's head to chest and then back. "So you…" He pointed. "You talk through the radio?"

Clapping echoed back. "_Thank you, you're beautiful_." The robot clapped his metal hands and pointed back at him. "_You're wonderful, you're wonderful_."

"So… what was last night? What was that?"

He waved an arm up and pointed at the sky. "_Message from Starfleet, Captain—Throughout the inanimate vastness of space— Angels will rain down like visitors from heaven, hallelujah!_"

"Space," Chloe repeated, brows furrowed. "I told you it wasn't _Japanese_," she muttered at Sam before taking a few steps closer to the robot. "You're an _alien_, then? Right?"

He pointed at her before suddenly bending down and turning back into a beat-up Camaro. "_Anymore questions you want to ask?"_ he asked via a John Wayne voice clip. The passenger door swung open.

Sam stared at his car, his brows quirked. "He wants us to get in the car…"

She snorted. "Because that's worked out so well for us so far!"

He half-grinned, turning to look at her. "C'mon, Chloe… You're the bravest girl I know… Fifty years from now, when you're looking back at your life, don't you want to be able to say you had the guts to get in the alien car?"

She laughed back at him, her head tipped. "You make a good point, Witwicky…" She climbed up the hill and paused next to the car. "What kind of investigative reporter would I be if I didn't?"

He smirked back.

Climbing inside, she wondered, "I can't tell if I'm being recklessly spontaneous or just really, really stupid…"

"Maybe that's the best part…" he said, hopping into the passenger seat.

In the distance, Barricade groaned and sparked in a useless heap.

Frenzy used what was left of his body to create a set of crab-like legs beneath him. He crawled along the dirt to the chocolate brown messenger bag left behind, a laptop, cell phone and wallet within reach.

Pulling out Chloe's cell, Frenzy stabbed it with one of his legs before tossing it away and taking the form of her phone.

As Sam's car paused next to the bag, Chloe hopped out and grabbed up all of her stuff, as well as Sam's jeans. "You better pray my laptop still works," she muttered back to him, before climbing back into the car and over him to sit in the driver's seat. "And here… Taking you home with less clothes on probably won't help our case with your parents…"

…

It was awhile later, when she was fairly sure they weren't in immediate danger, that Chloe finally relaxed. "I feel like we should be freaking out more," she told him, leaning her head back.

"Maybe you're just used to it," he suggested, his eyes trained on the steering wheel turning and steadying all on its own.

"I've seen weird things in my life, but I can't say alien cars were one of them… At least not until now…" she sighed.

"One more to add to the long list, right?" he joked.

She looked over at him. "How panicked are you?"

"I'm trying really hard not to cry like a girl," he offered, brows hiked high on his forehead.

She chuckled. "Well, you're hiding it well…"

He laughed under his breath. "Thanks… I try."

Smiling, she shook her head, turning her eyes back out to stare at the front end of the car. "It's too bad tonight went sideways…"

He frowned over at her wonderingly.

She smirked. "I was really looking forward to beating you at air hockey again…"

He rolled his eyes. "You're a bad cheerer-upper, Chloe…" He shook his head, eyes wide for emphasis. "And seriously, you only won because I had a mild concussion…" He held his hands up defensively. "I'm just saying… I'm just laying that out there, okay?"

"Oh yeah?" She laughed. "Then why haven't we played since, huh?"

"'Cause you're a sore loser too and I just— I didn't want the headache…" He nodded, chewing his lip.

She sighed, amused. "Listen, the next time you're hospitalized after having your ass run over during a contact sport? I'll go easy on you…"

He smiled to himself, shaking his head. "Nah… I liked it."

"You _liked _that I beat you?" She scoffed. "Now you're just lying…"

"No, I…" He licked his lips. "You told me I shouldn't do it… That I didn't need to be on the football team to get people to like me… And, well…" He scratched the back of his neck. "You were right…" He cleared his throat, eyes darting away. "And when I got out of the hospital and mom stopped crying, you never said 'I told you so,' you just treated me like usual…" He nodded, brows furrowed. "It _matters_, y'know?"

Chloe stared at the steering wheel, tracing the symbol in the center. Her heart felt like it was lodged in her throat. "Yeah… Well, don't get sappy on me now, Witwicky, just because we had one _tiny_ life-threatening experience together…"

His mouth quirked on one side. "Right, sure…"

Biting her lip, she looked at the radio and wondered aloud, "So… Alien-Car…"

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Laying a few questions to rest," she muttered. Turning back to the radio, she said, "Curiosity begs, why, of all vehicles, would you pick this old, beat-up Camaro to hide yourself? I mean… Assuming you could turn into _anything_…"

The car hit the breaks and skidded to a screeching halt, turned sideways on the road.

"Whoa! Whoa! Oh, see? No. Get— no, that doesn't work. See?" Sam jumped out of the car and put his hands on his hips. "Real smooth, Chloe!"

"Move it, you moron!" a driver yelled out their window as they passed.

Chloe rolled her eyes, stepping onto the sidewalk and watching as the car sped off down the road, leaving them behind.

"Great, now... See?" Sam held his arms out. "Fantastic!" He waved a hand back at the retreating Camaro. "Now you pissed him off." He put his hands over his head in distress. "That car is sensitive. I mean, four thousand dollars just drove off!"

She snorted. "Calm down…" she muttered. "He left you once and he came back… I _highly_ doubt one tiny question about his taste in disguises is going to scare him off…" She rolled her eyes. "What kind of advanced alien species is _that _sensitive?"

"I don't _know!_" He shook his head hysterically. "Because this is the only _advanced alien specie _I've _met!_"

Down the tunnel, his car turned up onto its two side wheels and motored down the road until it passed something it liked. Scanning it, taking in the entire mold and construction of the car, it then returned to Sam and Chloe as a sleek and shiny 2009 Camaro, coming to a smooth stop a few feet away from them.

In slack-jawed awe, Sam dropped his hands from his head and stared. "What…?"

Chloe smirked. "You're welcome."

He laughed shortly before jogging over to the car and running a hand over the passenger door.

"Nice job," Chloe said, admiringly. "Way to prove a not-quite-as-advanced human wrong."

The engine revved in reply.

Sam pulled the door open and nodded his head at her. "Ladies first."

Chloe winked before climbing inside and sinking into the soft leather seat.

Circling quickly, Sam gave a delighted laugh before hopping into the driver's seat.

He ran his hands over the steering wheel before turning to look at Chloe.

She grinned back. "Now I can actually _mean _it when I tell you your car is awesome…"

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

The car roared off down the road and the two teenagers laughed happily.

…

"All right…" Chloe turned up the volume on the radio. "The world wants to know… Name your favorite movie…"

"Seriously?" Sam asked, amused.

"What?" She grinned. "If they learned our language through the net, they must have watched a few movies…" Looking back at the radio, she raised a brow. "So? Any year, new or old, which did you like best?"

The radio crackled before replying, "_E.T.… Phone Home._"

She threw her head back in laughter. "Yeah, I bet…"

"_No, but seriously kids—_" he piped up again. "_Adrian__!— Rocky!—"_

"A Rocky fan?" Sam nodded approvingly. "Not bad, not bad…"

"What's next?" Chloe tapped her chin thoughtfully. "All right, okay…" She sat forward eagerly.

Sam grinned at her. "I feel like I just moved down the ranks… First Mojo, now my car. Where am I on the list now?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, rolling her eyes. "Ignore him, A.C.," she said, petting the dashboard dramatically.

His brows furrowed. "A.C.?"

"Alien Camaro," she clarified, shrugging her shoulders.

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head. Still, he waved a hand to tell her to continue.

"Right!" She looked back at the radio. "Okay… Top fives. I wanna know your taste in music, TV, and books!"

Sam settled into his seat, smiling to himself. Leave it to Chloe to bond with his alien car…

Just one more thing to add to the already long list of things that made her special.

…

**Los Angeles****, California**

Some time later, the car slowed down but continued right through a caution sign wearing chain-link fence to park just outside of the Griffith Observatory.

As Chloe stepped out, a cool breeze rustled her messy, shoulder-length hair. She looked around curiously before directing her eyes back to Sam. "No offense, but I think even _he_ needs GPS…"

Sam shook his head, his eyes catching on something blazing above in the sky. He circled to stand at the front of the car. "No, look…"

Chloe followed his gaze, her brows furrowed. "Why do I get the feeling this night isn't over yet?" she muttered on a sigh. Still, despite her brave face, the four fiery shapes coming at them did send her heart flipping in her chest. She swallowed tightly, gnawing at her lip.

Sam reached out and took her hand, squeezing tightly. "I got you," he said and she turned to look at him searchingly.

"Hey, if Armageddon's coming, who better to die with, right?" he offered with a faint grin.

She half-smiled, squeezing his hand and saying, "I wish Mojo was here."

He laughed warmly.

The fireballs shot past them into the distance.

One landed in an empty, grassy field nearby, exploding dirt and a nearby tree in the process.

Another blasted through a baseball stadium, destroying a giant section of seats before hitting the center of the diamond in a show of fire and smoke.

A third rolled across a city street right outside a diner, blowing out the windows and scaring a group of teenagers upon landing.

And the last landed in the backyard pool of an unsuspecting family, waking up a young girl who reached under her pillow for the tiny bag holding her recently lost tooth.

Chloe and Sam ran to the closest one, hand in hand, careful not to trip over the upturned dirt.

They paused at the top of a hill to stare down at the mass below, bursts of fire surrounding it, as well as a gnarled tree.

"Is it wrong that I want to interview it?" she wondered, brow knit.

His lips twitched. "Maybe we should open with 'Welcome to Earth,' first…"

She grinned. "Touché."

Below, the silvery mass began to move and separate, growing in size.

Arms and legs in tact, it stood from its landing spot and began loping across the field, looking in every direction to make sure it hadn't been seen.

Farther away, one of the teenagers from the diner ran out into the street, camera in hand, shrieking happily, "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen! Whoah, ah!" When sparks started flying, he exclaimed, "Explosions everywhere!" He called out to a friend behind him, "This is _easily_ a hundred times cooler than Armageddon. _I swear to God!_" And avoiding the mess of lifted cement and debris, he muttered to himself, "Fire, fire, fire, fire! Damn!"

Turning around a corner, he eventually came to a stop outside an electronics store that had been gutted, a hole running straight through it.

"Whoa! Sweet!" he said, circling the sparking mess. "Oh, dude, I hope this guy's got asteroid insurance, 'cause he is _so_ boned!"

Noticing something in the distance, he muttered, "What is that?" He ran around the side of the building, his friends with him, and a metal rack fell over. "There's something in the tree, dude."

The firemen that arrived on the scene started dispelling the crowd.

"No, there's something in the thing by the tree!" he argued. "Could you guys just give me a space rock?"

They ignored him.

And gone unnoticed, the alien being transformed into a Hummer H2 rescue vehicle and made his escape.

The protoform that landed in the baseball stadium soon found his way to a Pontiac dealership and admired the spinning Pontiac Solstice hardtop on display. He scanned the car and took on the form for himself.

The one who landed in the suburbanite's pool, crushed the attached stairs as he rose from the water, witnessed by a small girl holding a pink unicorn stuffie. Dripping, he stepped right past her while she stared on fearlessly. Finally, she asked, "Excuse me, are you the tooth fairy?"

He never replied, and her parents came running out of the house seconds later.

"Hey, sweetheart, what are you doing out here by yourself?" her dad worried. "Holy God! What happened to the pool?"

Slipping behind the trees unseen, he made his escape, scanning the family's black GMC Topkick truck and transforming into a replica of it.

Overlooking a freeway, a third watched a red and blue semi-truck with flames adoring it and took on its image for himself.

As the Camaro rolled back up behind them and honked his horn, Chloe and Sam turned around to find its doors open again.

"Follow the yellow brick road," she muttered, walking back over.

"We're off to see the wizard…" Sam kicked his heels as he circled the car to the driver's side.

She snorted at him amusedly. "I shottie Dorothy and Mojo's my Toto."

He frowned at her. "Doesn't leave me a whole lot of great options here, Chlo…"

She shrugged, grinning to herself.

Sam spent the rest of the ride considering the pros and cons to being the Tinman or the Scarecrow.

Chloe didn't do much more than laugh.

A few minutes later, the Camaro turned off the main road and drove them down a dark, empty back-alley.

When it stopped, Chloe looked around suspiciously before raising a brow. "I know you want to make the point that if they wanted to kill us they already would have, but… There's something to be said about location…" She shook her head. "And this place is just plain creepy…"

Through the smoke up ahead, a semi-truck drove toward them.

Sam exited the car slowly, pausing when Chloe grabbed his sleeve. He looked back and she frowned up at him.

"Shouldn't we have a code word?" Her brows furrowed. "For if or _when _this turns on us and we start having a bad feeling that these robot visitors really _are _here to enslave us and turn us into battery acid?"

He stared back at her wide-eyed and finally knelt down to face her better. "Okay, fine, what're you thinking?"

"I—I don't _know!_" She shook her head frantically. "I just think we should be _prepared!_"

"Okay, Girl Scout, you think of a safe word and I'll…" He looked back over at the approaching semi. "I'll play Earth's welcoming committee…"

He stepped out and started toward it slowly, clearly not as fearless as he might have appeared.

Rolling her eyes, Chloe shoved out of the passenger side. "Stupid, stubborn boy…" she muttered under her breath.

Behind them, three more vehicles came roaring up, one of them bleeping their siren.

Sam looked back, slack-jawed.

As the semi-truck drew nearer, Chloe hurried around to stand next to Sam, bracing a hand on his arm, fingers bunching his shirt in her fist. "Butterscotch," she told him. "Safe word's Butterscotch…"

His arm covered the front of her waist, pushing her back and behind him, half-shielding her. "Butterscotch. Got it."

They both stared up in shock as the truck reconfigured into a giant, standing robot, looking much larger than Sam's car had been and exuding an air of greatness.

They turned around in a circle as each vehicle did the same, including Sam's car, becoming their robot forms before their eyes.

Chloe gasped, reaching out and taking Sam's hand, squeezing his fingers tight between hers. "Threat level Caramel," she told him.

He glanced back and forth between her and the robots. "Wait. Wait, is Caramel before or after Butterscotch?"

"Before…" She swallowed thickly. "Just barely."

He nodded, turning back to face the giant robots before him, and hoped desperately that they were of the friendly variety.

"What do I say?" he whispered back to her.

"How should I know?" she whisper-shouted back.

"Hey!" He waved his finger around negatively. "You can't go around saying you're the Queen of the Weird if you can't help in situations like _these!_"

"Weird is one thing…" She shook her head faintly. "Alien is another."

"Since when are there _sub_-categories?"

"Since now!" She waved a hand past him. "Try hi…"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Really? That's the best you've got?"

Chloe opened her mouth to argue, but just then, the red and blue robot, formerly a semi-truck, knelt down in front of them, bracing an arm on the cement below, and leaned his face in very close.

"Butterscotch," Chloe squeaked.

[**Next**: Part V.]


	5. Part V

**Title**: Transformers: Heroic Hearts  
><strong>Category<strong>: Smallville/Transformers  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Humor/Action/Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Chloe Sullivan/Sam Witwicky  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Giant spoilers, violence, strong language, sexuality  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Whole chunks of the movie Transformers (2007) were rewritten here for coherence, so any of those who haven't seen the movies would be able to understand. I take no credit for any parts recognizable to the brand or the movies themselves.  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 8,646  
><strong>Overall Status<strong>: Complete  
><strong>Summary<strong>: (AU) All Sam wanted was a car and the girl of his dreams. He gets both; only neither are who or what he expected.

**_Transformers: Heroic Hearts_**  
>-Novel-<p>

**V.**

**Los Angeles****, California**

_A Dark, Back Alley_

The robot kneeling before the two scared teens finally asked, in a deep, gravelly voice, "Are you Samuel James Witwicky, descendent of Archibald Witwicky?"

Chloe stared up, face slacken; she squeezed the shoulder of Sam's shirt tight in her fingers.

"Yeah…?" he answered in a cracked voice. Clearing his throat, he fidgeted with his shirt and waved a thumb back. "This is Chloe Sullivan."

She waved vaguely.

"My name is Optimus Prime," the robot declared. He looked between them and explained, "We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron."

Blinking rapidly, Chloe shook some of her stupor off. "Japan my ass," she muttered under her breath.

"But you can call us Autobots for short," Hummer-turned-robot told them in a noticeably cultured voice.

"Autobots," Sam repeated.

"What's cracking, little bitches?" asked a silver robot in a ghetto-inspired accent.

"My first lieutenant," Optimus told them.

He did a flip through the air, landing on one knee and bracing his chin on his arm.

"Designation: Jazz."

Kicking his leg around in a circle, Jazz said, "This looks like a cool place to kick it," before hopping back and landing on top of an old, blue car in a relaxed, seated position, metal arms crossed casually over his chest.

"What is that?" Sam asked, lifting an arm over at him wonderingly. "How did he learn to talk like _that?_"

Optimus stood to his full height and explained, "We've learned Earth's languages through the World Wide Web…"

"I'm seriously worried about what else they learned," Chloe muttered, shaking her head.

Behind them, one of the robots readjusted an arm, hiding a cannon.

"My weapons specialist, Ironhide," Optimus introduced.

Two giant cannons, one yellow and the other blue, flipped atop his arms before landing on both Chloe and Sam as he asked, "You feeling _lucky_, punk?"

Sam stared wide-eyed, swallowing tightly. He shifted Chloe further behind him.

"Easy, Ironhide," Optimus told him.

"Just kidding…" He lifted his blue arm and said, "I just wanted to show him my cannons."

Sam's mouth hiked at one corner in an amused smile as he breathed out a snickering laugh.

"Our medical officer, Ratchet," Prime introduced next.

The Hummer-turned-Autobot said, "Hmm… The boy's pheromone levels suggest he's very protective, maybe even _territorial_, of the female… While she is showing signs she would like to _mate _with the boy…"

Chloe's eyes widened. "Whoa, back the nose up, buddy… Personal space!"

"Wait, what…?" Sam looked back and forth from Ratchet to Chloe, his brows hiked. "You want to… When he says _mate_, he means—?"

"Focus, Sam," she told him, glaring.

"Oh, I'm focused. I—I'm really_, really_ focused. See, 'cause what _I_ heard—" He motioned to himself, "—was that the doc here was smelling something on you that said you wanted to—"

She slapped a hand over his mouth and leaned in close. "On. The. Robots. _Sam_…"

He stared at her carefully, eyes narrowing, before finally nodding.

Turning back around, Chloe put her hands on her hips. "Just about the whole roster…" She nodded her head toward what used to be Sam's Camaro, air-boxing at Optimus' side.

"You've already met your guardian, Bumblebee…"

Clearing his throat, Sam turned his attention to his car. "_Bumblebee_…"

Hustling backwards along the street, Bumblebee took a few jabs at the air. His radio rapping, "_Check on the rep, yep, second to none…_"

"So you're my guardian, huh?"

He stopped, turning and giving Sam a nod.

"His vocal processors were damaged in battle," Ratchet explained, turning a red beam of light at Bumblebee's throat, seeming to take a scan of the damage.

He turned as if to avoid it and then coughed.

"I'm still working on them…"

Chloe sighed, turning to stare up at the seeming leader. "So no offense, but… Why now? And, assuming there are a whole lot of other planets for you to pop wheelies on… Why _here?_"

"We are here looking for the All Spark," Optimus told her ominously. "And we must find it before Megatron…"

"Mega-_what?_" Sam asked.

Optimus raised a hand to his head, pressing his metal fingers to just the side of his eye, creating a pale blue light from his eyes. As he turned it in their direction, it created a hologram, making it appear as though the ground before their feet had fallen away, and below was a pit of magma, the cement beneath their feet crumbling.

Sam looked around, his brows furrowed, and seeing that the ground was separating between them, he hopped across and grabbed Chloe's hand, pulling her away from the edge. He didn't say anything when she stared at him, instead turning his gaze up to Optimus.

"Our planet was once a powerful empire. Peaceful and just. Until we were betrayed by Megatron, leader of the Decepticons," Optimus explained. "All who defied them were destroyed. Our war finally consumed the planet, and the All Spark was lost to the stars…"

The world before them was dark, made of steel structures of hard lines and razor sharp edges. Smoke and fire laid waste to much of the surrounding grounds.

A giant robot of interlocking metal that made him look bulky, even muscular, and red, piercing eyes, growled above, staring down at the chaos.

"Megatron followed it to Earth, where Captain Witwicky found him…"

Sam laughed breathlessly. "My grandfather…"

"It was an accident that intertwined our fates," Optimus told him.

The scene changed to that of the Arctic, where Captain Archibald Witwicky stood in the chilly winds, the whiskers of his beard frozen solid with bright white ice.

The dogs they'd brought along to pull their sleds began barking and struggling against their keepers, finally breaking free and rushing off into the freezing world before them.

"Come back!" a sailor yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth.

The group of sailors, struggling to chip away the ice keeping their boat stuck, immediately turned to chase after the dogs, finding them digging into the snow in search of something unseen.

"I think the dogs have found something."

Archibald pushed forward to the front of the crowd, his brows furrowing as the tell-tale creaking reached his ears. "The ice is cracking!"

Immediately, where they stood, the ice gave way a few inches. The sailors used their picks to grab hold, pulling themselves closer to the solid edge, but Archibald knelt unsteadily in the center, until finally it caved in and he fell through, bellowing in fear as he was swallowed by the abyss. A tunnel of ice had been created below and he slid down it like a slide, the sled dogs just behind him, before reaching the bottom and flipping up and over himself. He landed in a mess of limbs, cold and confused.

"Captain!"

"Captain! Grab my rope, Captain!" a sailor called, thrusting his half-frozen rope down the hole.

Archibald pushed himself up to his knees and shouted back, "I'm all right, lads!" his voice echoing around him.

He found a lantern in his bag and lit it, gazing around the cave of ice he'd fallen into. As he turned around, his eyes landed widely on a metallic face, locked frozen in the ground.

Optimus' explained, "_Megatron crash-landed before he could retrieve the Cube_."

"Men!" Archibald exclaimed. "We've made a discovery!"

Searching where he stood, he found he was in the hand of the mysterious ice man, his metal fingers spread wide. Walking to one of the icy fingers, he curiously felt around, for identifiers of some sort.

"_He accidentally activated his navigation system…_"

A whirring noise sounded from the head of the ice man, drawing Archibald's attention.

And when he pivoted, Megatron's eyes turned a vicious red before shooting a beam directly at Archibald's face. He screamed, falling to the ground, his lantern crashing with him. Snow and ice clung to his unconscious body.

"_The coordinates to the Cube's location on Earth were imprinted on his glasses_."

Sam stared up at Optimus curiously. "How'd you know about his glasses?"

"eBay."

"eBay," Sam repeated, looking at Chloe with a faint smile.

"My dad barely knows how to use MSN and alien life forms are shopping online…" Chloe muttered.

"If the Decepticons find the All Spark…" Ratchet curled his hand in a fist. "They will use its power to transform Earth's machines and build a _new_ army."

"And the human race will be extinguished," Optimus added, standing tall and ominous above them. He took a few steps back, his fellow Autobots joining him. "Sam Witwicky, you hold the key to Earth's survival…"

Sam looked at each of them in wide-eyed shock.

Chloe raised a brow at him. "And you sold them to me for thirty-five bucks…"

He tugged at the collar of his shirt and cleared his throat. "Yeah… Heh, about that…"

She rolled her eyes. "Lemme guess… You _still _have no idea where they are?"

He grinned at her apologetically.

With a scoff, she turned back around and looked up at the Autobots. "Any chance any of you are headed back to Burbank? We didn't exactly pack them… Something about not expecting to save the world and all that…"

With a nod, Bumblebee transformed back into the flashy Camaro, and they were back on the road soon after.

…

**Somewhere Over the Atlantic**

En-route back to America, Captain Lennox and his team were studying the tail they'd salvaged from the village fight.

"It's like a self-regenerating molecular armor," a soldier told them in confused awe.

"Look at the scorch mark where the sabot round hit," Lennox said, tapping at it with a pick. "Melted right through…" He looked over at Epps and asked, "Hey, aren't sabots hot-loaded for like a six thousand-degree magnesium burn?"

"Close to it," he replied. "It melts tank armor."

"So this metal skin must react to extreme heat…" he said thoughtfully.

Suddenly, the tail reared up, the spiked end landing dangerously close to Epps, spearing right through the metal table.

Shouting as he leapt out of the way, Epps turned angrily to Lennox. "I thought you said that thing was dead, man!"

The tail slowly retracted, laying flat once more.

"Strap it down!" Lennox demanded, helping as numerous soldiers pinned it down carefully. When they had it under control, he stepped back and shook his head, waving a finger down at it seriously, "This thing is _wicked_…" Walking around to a still edgy Epps, he said, "All right, get on the horn with Northern Command. Tell them that our effective weapon is _high-heat_ sabot rounds. Recommend we load them on all the gunships. _Go_."

…

**Los Angeles****, California**

"So…" Sam shifted in his seat, looking over at Chloe as she stared broodingly out the window. "Busy day, right?"

"If you count nearly being killed, alien robot cars, and a War of the Worlds braced on our shoulders _busy_, sure…" she murmured.

He frowned, chewing his lip. "Listen, I… The glasses and all this, I mean…" He turned in his seat. "It's _my _grandfather that started this thing, right? So…" He stared searching at her profile. "I mean, if you just… If you wanted me to drop you off at _home _o-or whatever, I… I wouldn't hold it against you… Y'know?"

Chloe turned to look at him. "Sam…" She cocked a brow. "I know you had Mikaela on your brain for as long as I've known you, but I thought by now that whole Chloe-loves-everything-weird-and-bizarre _might _have sunk in just a _little_…" She shook her head. "I _live _for this kind of thing…"

"No, yeah, I… I _know _that. I…" He sighed, pursing his lips. "But this is… This is like a whole new _level _of weird, right? I mean, even _you _said robot cars wasn't in your history, so…" His knee bounced nervously. "I-I'm just saying that I wouldn't… I mean, I'd _get it_ if you just… If you thought this whole thing was just _crazy_…" He laughed hollowly, his eyes falling.

"Look, I've stuck with you through a lot, including a car chase of _epic _proportions… You really think some small alien invasion with the future of the world weighing on your shoulders is really going to scare me off?" She grinned slowly. "I've got your back, Witwicky…" She reached across to sock him in the arm. "All right?"

He ducked his head, laughing under his breath. "All right…" Sitting back, he leaned into the headrest and smiled to himself. "All right."

"Oh… And I want my thirty-five bucks back."

He snorted.

"Hey, you're lucky I'm not charging you for emotional distress, buddy!" she teased.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes and scoffed lightly. "Let's see you plead you case in court, Sullivan!"

Her eyes widened in mock surprise. "You would _drag _me to _court_…" She pressed a hand to her chest. "I'm _offended!_"

Sam chuckled, nodding. "Hey, you're the one squeezing me for more money. Anybody should be offended, it should be _me_…"

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "Uh-huh…"  
>…<p>

**Washington****, DC**  
><em>Pentagon<em>

In an interrogation room, Glen and Maggie sat waiting.

A soldier dropped a plate of various donuts on the table for them before leaving once more.

Glen immediately grabbed one up and began stuffing his face, while Maggie tapped a finger against her mouth impatiently.

Awhile later, when only two chunks of two different donuts were left behind, Glen asked her, "You want that piece?" When she didn't answer, he stuffed it too in his mouth and then licked his fingers clean. "Okay, Maggie, look… Lemme break it down to you how it's gonna happen…" His brows furrowed as he glanced at the door. "They gonna come through that door and be good cop, bad cop," he said seriously, waving a hand at her. "Don't _fall_ for that, all right?" He licked his lips and pointed at the empty plate. "That's why I ate they food. See, they put the plate of donuts out here to test your guilt. If you don't touch it, you're _guilty_." He lifted the empty plate at her and then dropped it meaningfully before saying, with a straight face, "I ate the whole plate." He stabbed a finger through the air. "The _whole_ plate. 'Kay?"

She shook her head.

"It's me and you. They walk through that door, you don't say _nothing_."

The door opened then and two FBI agents walked through, one in a suit while the other wore a black vest marked with FBI in yellow block letters. The suited man walked around them, unseen in the shadows, while the other, the vested bald man stepped up next to Glen and moved the plate away from him, his expression grim. As he circled around to stand next to Maggie, the first agent moved to the table and dropped a file atop it.

"She did it!" Glen exclaimed, pointing at her. "She did it! She's the one you want! All right?" He looked to the other agent and pressed his hands to his chest apologetically, explaining, "I was just sitting at home watching cartoons, playing video games with my cousin, and she came in there. All right?"

Maggie threw her hands up in exasperation. "Glen, you _freak!_"

"Hey! I am not going to jail for you or anybody else!" he said, stabbing a finger in her direction. Turning to the agent, he pointed at the table and told him seriously, "I have done nothing bad my entire life!" Standing he moved to the agent just the left of Maggie and pleaded, "Hey, man, I'm still a _virgin!_"

The agent shoved him back into his seat.

"Okay, so what, I've downloaded a couple of thousand songs off the Internet." He threw his hands up defensively. "Who hasn't? _Who hasn't?_ I promise—"

"Glen, shut up!" Maggie shouted.

"No, _you_ shut up! Don't talk to me!" He waved an arm through the air. "Don't talk to me, _criminal!_" He sat back then, pressing a hand to his stomach, and finally dropped his head to his arms against the table. "Oh, sugar rush…"

"This—This is _not_ his fault," Maggie said, motioning to him as she spoke to the agent at the front of the table, his arms braced in front of him.

"See? So can I go home now?" Glen hoped, hopping out of his chair.

The agent again shoved him back into his seat by his shoulder.

"Oh, okay…"

"But—Just—Listen to me…" Maggie said beseechingly. "Okay, whoever hacked into your military system downloaded a file, all right?" She motioned her hands around in emphasis. "It was something about— about someone named _Witwicky_ and, uh, some—" Her brows furrowed and she motioned to Glen for back-up, "—some government group, right? Um, named _Sector Seven!_" She stared up at the agent and told him, "You have to let me talk to Defense Secretary Keller before you go to _war_ with the _wrong_ country!"

…

**En-Route to Burbank, California**

"So, Bumblebee…" Chloe said, directing her gaze at the radio. "Did you get to _choose _to be Sam's guardian or was there a short-stick takes the human type of thing?"

Sam snorted. "Thanks, Chlo…" He patted his chest over his heart. "You wound me sometimes, y'know that?"

She rolled her eyes at him amusedly.

The radio replied, "_It is my honor and privilege— Serving this great cause here tonight— I just want to say— Nowhere else in the world that I'd like to be…"_

Sam grinned. "Yeah, well, y'know, _thanks_… I mean…" He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I know I thought you were stalking me and things probably would'a gone smoother if I didn't just take off and ride my mom's bike right into danger, but…" He nodded. "It's cool, y'know? That I got you to save my back…"

"_It is with friendship— Loyalty and trust— That I stand next to you in the battlefield, sir._"

"Right back atcha, buddy. We're gonna find this cube-thingy or whatever and get you guys all sorted, all right?" Sam promised, patting his hand against the dashboard.

Bumblebee played a clapping track in reply.

Chloe chuckled. "Cute… You've got a little bromance going on…"

Sam shrugged. "Just don't tell Miles, all right?" He leaned back into his seat and looked over at her, eyebrows hiked. "He gets a little jealous, especially since you rolled into town…"

"Oh, please… As if I had any chance of getting in between a life-long friendship like that." Scoffing, she shook her head. "No, I cut my losses and took up with Mojo, if you remember…"

"Yeah?" Sam smirked knowingly. "Still trying to say I'm not your best friend, huh?"

"I stick to my guns, Witwicky," she boasted.

"I dunno, Chloe. I mean, you killed a robot for me; took an axe to it any everything…" He waved a hand. "The _carnage_…" He whistled.

Her eyes narrowed. "You were my ride home."

"Uh-huh… And offering to drive over and risk your life against my homicidal stalker-car—" He looked back at the radio. "No offense, Bumblebee, that was before I knew you were the good guy…"

"_Read you loud and clear, Captain!_"

"If you'll remember, Mojo too was in the house being surrounded by _said_ killer-car!" Chloe reminded.

"Just admit it!" he exclaimed. He motioned to his chest with his hands. "I'm your best friend in the whole wide world and you'd take a bullet for me and all that selfless stuff you see in movies!"

She laughed, grinning widely at him, but shook her head still.

His eyes narrowed playfully. "This is about farmer-Clark, right? You've still got best-friend-feelings for him, right?" He nodded. "Okay, all right, I get it… It's been a few years and he probably never introduced you to an alien species, but whatever…" He shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. "No grudge here…"

"Okay, _first of all_, if we were basing friendship rights on a tally of how much weird I've been introduced to, with one for each event…" Her eyes widened, brows cocked, "Clark's got you beat..."

"Pfft!" He rolled his eyes.

"But for overall _experience_…" Chloe stared at him, lips curled faintly. "You've got it in the bag, Sam…"

Sam's teasing humor faded. "Good." He nodded. "_Good…_"

Chloe turned her away, shifting in her seat. When she looked up, she motioned out the window with her chin. "We're almost home…" She glanced at him. "Hey, isn't your curfew eleven?"

Sam's eyes widened dramatically. "Oh shit… Shit, shit, shit…" He sat forward and spoke at the radio to get his message across stronger, "Bumblebee, we gotta speed this train up… There's gonna be no saving-the-world if my dad grounds me, all right?" He knocked his knuckles against the radio-face. "You hear me?"

The engine revved before the car sped up, so abruptly that the two teenagers were forced back into their seats.

Sam watched with some worry as the arrow went far past the speeding limit.

"Alive! We gotta get there _alive!_" he cried.

"_Fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a bumpy night!_" the radio replied.

…

Ron Witwicky was on the phone, while his wife Judy watched the news next to him, cutting up a slice of cheesecake distractedly.

"_Whatever fell out of the sky ended up right behind_—" a man reported.

"What did he say?" Judy wondered, glancing at her husband.

"Huh? What?" he asked, distractedly.

"Did he hear it, too?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Jack heard it, too." He turned back to the phone. "Huh. Yeah."

"What does he think it is?" she persisted.

Ron glanced at her. "He thinks it's a military experiment."

"Pfft." She rolled her eyes. "What a knucklehead."

He ducked his head, talking to Jack once more, "Yeah, well, I think it's a plane…"

"_Still no official word as to what happened_," a blonde, female reporter informed. "_You can see the fire_—"

"Call Sam," Judy told her husband.

Still on the phone, he asked, "Why?"

"He should be home in 15 minutes," she said, not taking her eyes off the TV.

"Well, I'll call him in 15 minutes."

Her eyebrows rose meaningfully. "If you wait 15 minutes, he'll be late and you'll have to ground him."

"Well, I can't ground him if he's not late, can I?"

She frowned.

In the alley behind their house, the Autobots rolled up, with Bumblebee at the forefront.

Sam stepped out and looked over at Chloe. "Can you do me a favor and watch these guys?"

"And leave _you _to find the missing glasses?" She rolled her eyes. "Sam, last month you lost your math book; you haven't found it _since_…" She nodded at him meaningfully. "You're lucky Miles is in that class!"

"Okay, _seriously_…" He pointed at her, his eyebrows raised. "Mojo ate that!"

She scoffed, resting a hand on her hip. "Don't you blame that on Mojo!"

He shrugged, backing up toward his fence. "What is it with you and my dog, huh? I mean, really, a guy could get a complex…" He stared at her searchingly. "Share the love, Chloe."

She snorted. "You have five minutes," she told him, pointing at the house.

Nodding, he turned and walked through the fence door before rushing briskly across the lawn.

Standing at the back door, Ron said sarcastically, "Thanks for staying on my _path_…"

"Oh, yeah. No, no, Dad. Hey!" Sam closed the screen door in his face, pushing him back a little. "The—_Oh,_ the path." He waved a hand from his head to show he'd forgotten. "I'm sorry. I forgot about the path." He braced an arm at the door and stared at his dad nervously, who frowned back at him. "I'm gonna sweep the whole thing right now. How about that?"

Ron leaned in the door way. "You know, I-I buy half your car—"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Then I bail you out of jail—"

"Very appreciated."

"—I don't say anything when you spent the night at your girlfriend's house, _completely _unsupervised—"

"Friend who's a girl, but okay, ignoring details, whatever…"

"—and then I just…" He shook his head, "decided to do all your_ chores_…" He nodded, staring at him with wide eyes.

"The chores," Sam repeated.

"Yeah. Life is great, huh?"

"Life, well, life is fantastic, is how good it is…" Hearing a noise, Sam turned around, only to see Optimus had transformed from his car state and was standing behind the garage. "It's so— _oh_, the trash cans." He turned back around and pressed a hand to his forehead apologetically. "Sorry, dad. I'm gonna do the trash cans now."

"No, no," Ron reached for the door and pushed it open a few inches. "I don't want you to _strain_ yourself…" he mocked.

"No, don't, I won't strain myself, dad." He closed the door on him again.

"I'll do it. Come—"

Sam pressed a hand to his chest and furrowed his brows. "It would hurt my feelings if you do it…" He pointed at him.

"You sure? I don't mind," he said sarcastically, reaching for the door again.

"No, no, no." He closed the door again. "I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna do the trash cans and I'm gonna scrape the grill and, uh…" He looked back to see Optimus had taken a giant step right into the yard, just out of sight of his dad. "And I'm gonna, I'm gonna sweep up the whole, uh, house. Right now…" He turned back to his dad, face wide with fake innocence.

"Tonight, right now?" Ron asked, only slightly surprised.

Sam nodded. "Right now."

Just around the corner of the house, Bumblebee was bent and raised a hand to his mouth, saying, "Shh, shh, shh…"

"The— Uh—" Sam struggled with what else to say, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Finally, he told him, "_I love you_. God, I love you… just so much right now."

Ron checked his wrist and told him, "You know, mom wanted me to ground you." He squinted his eyes. "You're three minutes late."

"Right?" he asked. "Oh, well, just another thing you did for me, sad, because you're such a… swell guy."

Bumblebee waved off the other Autobots.

"One more thing, huh?" Ron said before walking away.

"All right, I love you!" Sam called after him. "Sleep good, handsome man!" When he was sure he was out of sight, he rushed toward Optimus and threw his hands up, demanding, "What are you doing? What are you doing?"

Optimus walked toward him.

Sam shook his head, rushing out of the way of his feet. "No, watch the path! Watch the path! Watch the— please, please, please."

Accidentally, Optimus dropped his foot down on top of the small fountain in the center.

"No, no, wait!" Sam cried. "No, no, no! Oh, no!"

"Sorry. My bad," Optimus told him.

Hands on his hips, Sam stared up at him in frustration. "Oh, I—" He crossed his arms over his chest and sniffed, waving a hand back at the crushed fountain. "You couldn't— You couldn't wait for five—" He motioned to the alley with his hands angrily. "You couldn't wait for five minutes? I told you to stay! Just _stay!_ God…"

Mojo ran out the back door as Sam walked past Optimus irritably.

Chloe met him, already shrugging apologetically.

"_One _favor… That's _all _I asked!"

"Yeah, well, war tends to make people, and aliens, a little panicky…" She shook her head. "I tried to hold them off but they weren't really listening…" She looked around the yard, wincing. "Wasn't there a fountain…?"

"Yeah. _Was_. There _was _a fountain!"

Mojo ran across the lawn and stopped next to the Autobots.

"Oh, this is bad…" Sam turned, only to see Mojo had lifted his leg and started peeing on Ironhide's foot.

"No! Mojo, Mojo! _Off_ the robot! God!" He ran toward him.

"Ugh! Wet…" Ironhide muttered, flicking Mojo out of the way with one of his toes before lifting his foot as if to crush the tiny Chihuahua beneath it.

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Sam cried, running over and grabbing him up, holding an arm up protectively. "Easy! Easy! Hold on! Hold!"

Ironhide dropped his foot and took two steps toward him.

"This is Mojo! This is Mojo!" Sam said frantically.

Chloe stopped at his side and pet Mojo's ear, frowning up at the grumpy Autobot.

"He's a pet of mine. He's a pet," Sam explained.

Ironhide turned a cannon arm against them.

"Okay? That's all."

He lifted a second cannon and grunted.

"If you could just put the guns away..." He raised a hand as if to block it. "Put the— Put them away. Please."

"You have a _rodent_infestation..." Ironhide sneered.

"A _what?_"

"Shall I terminate?"

"No, no, no, no. He's not a rodent, he's a _Chihuahua_. This is my— This is my Chihuahua. We _love—_" He motioned his arm around in a circle rapidly, "Chihuahuas!" He looked at Chloe. "Don't we?"

She glared at Ironhide. "Hurt him and I'll take you apart and make a super-computer with the spare parts!"

"_Chloe!_" he whisper-shouted. "_Not _helping."

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"He's leaked _lubricants_ all over my _foot_," Ironhide disputed. He armed his guns, grunting angrily.

"He _peed_ on you?" Sam asked, feigning surprise, before he looked down at his dog and told him, "Bad Mojo. Bad Mojo!"

Mojo growled back.

"Bad Mojo!" Ironhide agreed, putting his guns away.

"I'm sorry. He's got a male dominance thing. That's all it is…" Sam explained.

Sighing, Ironhide walked off, muttering to himself, "My foot's gonna rust…"

"All right…" Sam raced back toward the house, avoiding Optimus' moving feet and the debris of the fountain. "Whoa— Uh. Okay, okay." He waved a hand up at them. "Shh! Shh! Shh! Shut up and go hide!" he told them.

"Just hurry…" Optimus sighed.

As they all walked around the back, Sam ran inside, Mojo still in his arms.

Optimus bent toward the house and said, "Autobots, recon…"

"Exactly _what _are you trying to find here? Besides Mrs. Witwicky's prized rosebushes and a whole lot more of Mr. Witwicky's yard to trample?"

"We _must _keep an eye on the boy…" Optimus looked down at her meaningfully. "Those glasses mean the survival of your world as you know it, Chloe…" He stared at her searchingly. "How much faith do you have in Sam Witwicky?"

Pursing her lips thoughtfully, she sighed. "Listen… There aren't a whole lot of people I would trust with the end of the world…" Her eyes darted away. "In fact, I'd say there are all of _two_…" She shrugged faintly. "I can't promise you Sam would single-handedly bring about world _peace_, but…" She smiled softly. "I believe in him… Even if all you need from him is a pair of glasses… Sam _will _come through for you!"

Optimus nodded. "I hope you are right."

Behind her, Bumblebee climbed along the ground to peek in through a window to the living room, where Ron and Judy were sitting.

"I hope he's okay," Ron told her, moving to sit down next to her, a glass of wine in hand. "He's in the kitchen. Got some ice on his nose. I, uh, I had to slap him around a little bit…"

Her mouth fell open in amusement. "You did _not_. You didn't even _ground _him!"

"Almost, almost."

Upstairs, Sam was looking frantically in his bedroom, searching underneath papers and atop shelves. "Where are they?" He shoved game controllers out of the way. "No, no, no, no, no." Turning around, he started searching his bed, tossing blankets and sheets out of the way. "Come on, come on." Out of breath, he ran around the room, shoving anything and everything around in his search.

Hearing them outside, he turned to see Optimus had raised a hand, Chloe in the palm of it.

"What? What is this?" Sam asked.

"Time is _short_," Optimus told him.

"See?" She hiked her eyebrows at him. "Impatient."

Sam crossed to her, holding a hand out to help her in.

Chloe hopped over the flowerbeds and into his bedroom. "So?" She dropped her bag on his desk and then put her hands to her hips. "Organized chaos, huh?" She looked around his room and sighed.

"Yeah, usually I, uh…" He looked around and frowned. "I was gonna clean this up, y'know… _soon_."

She grinned. "Yeah, I'm sure…" She walked further into the room. "We can discuss your cleaning habits later, let's find those glasses…"

"Please hurry," Optimus asked, peering through the window.

Sam started looking under his bed, throwing around magazines and shaking his head. "Okay. Yeah, no, no… I really lost them."

"Wait, you had them that day… For the class project, right?" She nodded. "And I told you to keep them handy if you didn't sell them, 'cause I'd buy them, so…"

He blinked at her.

She shook her head. "Your bag? Where's your bag?"

"Right." He waved a finger agreeably. "Yes. I…" He turned around in a wide circle. "I don't know where that is…"

Sighing, she licked her lips. "Okay, we _need _to find that, so just…" She reached out and gripped his shoulders. "Calm down," she told him, staring into his eyes.

"Calm…" He stared back, momentarily distracted by how _green _her eyes are. "Wow, what is that? Like—Like _moss _green or…"

"What?"

"Huh? Oh! Uh…" He shook his head. "No. Nothing. Uh, you… You take _that _whole section there…" He waved his arms around one wall, where his computer and stereos and storage boxes were. "Just give it a clean sweep and I'll get… I'll get the corner here…" He started toward his bed.

Saluting him, Chloe winked and made her way to her side.

Smiling to himself, Sam bent by his bed.

When he looked back, he noticed she was kneeling down, reaching for a black box.

"Yeah, no, no, no!" he exclaimed, running back to her. "Not there. That's my— That's my private—" He grabbed the box out of her hands. "Sorry. That's nothing."

Brows furrowed, she watched him run off. "Seriously?" She tipped her head. "Just out in the open like that?"

"Not—Not in the _open_, okay? It was… It was in a _box_…"

"A box just _under _your desk…" She waved her arm toward where it had been. "_Anybody _could look there…"

"Okay, can we just… Can we pretend that didn't happen? Maybe? You know, just… just forget all about it…?"

She held her hands up, eyes wide, before turning back around. "Hey, your porn, not my business…"

"That's not forgetting… That—That's the _opposite_, okay?"

Laughing lightly, she returned to her search.

Unnoticed, Frenzy climbed out of Chloe's bag, turning from her cell phone back into his Decepticon form, momentarily shocked when he turned to see Sam's goldfish staring back at him.

Hearing a noise, Sam moved toward the window. "Okay. What now?" His face fell as he stared at his backyard. "No. No. No. No, no, no."

The Autobots had returned to their car form, spread out across the grass.

"This is _not_ hiding. This isn't hiding. This is my _backyard_, not a truck stop!" He turned back around, pressing his hands to his head in frustration. "Oh God. Oh!"

Downstairs, the news footage showed an older man with a backwards baseball cap on his face. He stared wide-eyed into the camera and told them, "_Okay, I saw it_." He pointed at the ground. "_The UFO landed right here and now it's gone._"

Judy watched with furrowed brows, pressing a hand to her mouth thoughtfully.

"_My moped's under there, man! Who's gonna pay for that?_"

Ron circled the room, pausing to look out the window.

Judy sighed to herself.

Upstairs, Chloe and Sam had returned to searching every inch of his bedroom, except for those he deemed off limits.

Chloe paused momentarily when she noticed the screensaver on his computer was a photo montage that changed every few seconds. Filling the screen was a picture of the two of them, a year younger, smiling for the camera. She briefly noticed that her hair looked _much _better now, before musing that her smile was still just as huge when she had Sam Witwicky nearby.

Before she could think too much on it, however, she noticed Optimus in the window. "Sam?"

"I can't deal with this. I can't—" he muttered.

Sam stopped at the window and then looked down to see the garden beneath was completely trampled. "_What?_ Oh, no, no, no."

Chloe looked over his shoulder and whistled. "Judy's gonna _kill you_…"

"This is my mother's flower..."

"Oops!" Optimus offered, lifting his foot up out of the dirt and shaking off a few withered roses.

"Okay, listen. You got to listen to me." Sam pressed his hands together pleadingly. "If my parents come out here and see you, they're gonna _freak_ out. My mother's got a _temper_, okay?"

"Especially when she's been drinking," Chloe added.

"Hey!" Sam frowned at her. "They don't need to know that. That—That's not _relevant…_"

She raised a brow at him. "Super alien race or not, they _really _don't want to get into it with your mom if she's had her wine…" She shrugged. "I'm just _saying_…"

"We _must _have the glasses," Optimus sighed.

Sam nodded. "I know you need the glasses. I've been looking everywhere." He waved a hand back into the house. "They're not here. They're definitely not here."

Optimus pressed a hand to his face in frustration. "Keep _searching_."

"I need you to be _quiet _for five minutes," Sam beseeched. "_Ten minutes_." He shrugged. "Okay? Please, I'm begging you." He looked down at the other Autobots. "You got to— You're making a racket. I can't—I can't concentrate." He held his hands up in a what-can-you-do fashion. "You want me to look and I'm hearing..."

Optimus nodded, waving a hand. "Calm down, calm down."

"You— You got to do something here." He pointed. "You got to do something here."

"Autobots," Optimus declared, "Fall back."

"Thank you. _Please!_" He held his hands out and looked around at them. "For five minutes. Good?" He looked down to ask the others, "Good? Okay."

"Move!" Jazz said, shoving Ratchet out of his way.

"Get away!" Ratchet answered, walking in front of him.

"What's the matter with you?" Optimus asked them. "Can't you be quiet? He wants us to be quiet."

Looking behind them, Ratchet didn't notice the power lines until he'd walked into them. "Ow!"

Tripping, he landed on a shed.

Inside, the Witwicky house was shaking with his landing, the lights flickering in and out.

"Earthquake!" Ron yelled, running toward the kitchen, holding his wine glass up. "Move, move, move, move, move! Earthquake!" He ducked under the table. "Judy! Judy, get under the table! Move it! Duck and cover right now!"

Still sitting on the couch, Judy merely leaned over and stared at him, brows furrowed. "How did you get over there so fast?"

In the backyard, Ratchet shook his head, sitting up slightly. "Wow! That was tingly! Ooh! You got to try that!" He fell back against the broken shed, groaning.

"Yeah, that looks _fun_," Ironhide said sarcastically.

The power line sparked dangerously before the whole street went dark.

Flashlight in hand, Ron and Judy went in search of their son.

He turned down the upstairs hallway and called out, "Sam?"

"Sammy?" Judy yelled, hugging a baseball bat to her chest.

Beneath Sam's bedroom door there was a flash of bluish light.

"What the hell is that?"

"I don't know." Judy frowned. "That's _weird_."

Ron banged on his son's bedroom door.

"Sam!" Judy called out.

Outside, Optimus and the Autobots stood around Sam's bedroom windows. "Ratchet, point the light! Come on, hurry."

"Listen, we got a major issue in here," Sam said, rushing around to them. "What's with the light? You gotta stop the light. Turn it off." He turned to Optimus. "You gotta tell him to shut it off. Shut it off!"

"Sam, are you in there?" Ron asked distantly. He banged on the door. "How come the door's locked? You know the rules. No doors locked in my house!"

Sam waved frantically at Chloe to hide.

She threw her arms up to remind him that there weren't a whole lot of places for her to duck and cover.

But he stomped his foot and mouthed, _Find somewhere!_

With a roll of her eyes, she started backing up, whispering, "Five bucks says he stars counting," before she was out of sight.

"You _know _he'll start counting!" his mother warned.

Sam pressed his fingers into his eyes and sighed at the predicament.

"One more chance," Ron offered. "_Five_..."

"Oh, dear."

"_Four_. It's coming off the hinges, pal…"

"He's counting!" his mother told him. "Sam, just open the door!"

"_Three_."

"Oh, my."

"_Two_."

"Ohh…" She shook her head. "He's _counting_…"

"Stand back!"

Sam yanked the door open, keeping it close to his chest. "What's up?" Trying too hard to look completely at ease, Sam's eyes darted between them before falling on his mom. "What's with the bat?"

"Who were you talking to?" his dad asked.

He feigned confusion, tipping his head slightly. "I'm talking to _you_."

"Why are you so _sweaty _and _filthy?_" his mom wondered.

His eyes stared between them searchingly. "I'm a _child_. You know, I'm a teenager."

"We heard _voices_ and _noises_ and we thought maybe you were—"

"Yeah, it doesn't matter what we thought." Ron tried to look into his room over his shoulder, frowning. "What was that _light?_" He pushed past him, peering around his bedroom suspiciously.

"No, what light? What?" Sam followed after him, saying, "Th—There's no light, Dad! There's no light!"

"The light!"

"You got two lights in your hand!" He pointed. "That's what it is."

"There was light under the door." Ron turned around and pointed at the floor.

"No, maybe it—" Trying a different tactic, Sam became defensive. "Look, you can't— You can't just _bounce_ into my room like that." He waved his hands around. "You gotta _knock_. You gotta communicate—"

"We did! We knocked for five minutes."

"—I'm a teenager."

"We knocked!" his mother exclaimed.

"You didn't knock!" He put a hand on his side and frowned at his mom. "You were _screaming_ at me, okay?"

"Nooo…"

He put his hands to his temples and told them, "This is repression, what you're doing here." He motioned to his chest and looked at his dad. "You're ruining my youth, okay?"

"Oh, for Pete's sakes!" His mom shook her head. "You are _so_ defensive! Were you..." Her face scrunched up as she said carefully, "masturbating?"

The room went quiet for a second and Chloe clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

"Judy…" Ron said, shaking his head.

Sam stared at his mom then looked at his dad and back. "Was I mastur— _No_, Mom!"

"Zip it, okay?" his dad said.

"It's _okay_…" Judy assured.

Sam played with his ear awkwardly, telling her, "_No_, I don't masturbate!"

"That's not something for you to bring up. That's a father-and-son thing, okay?" Ron told her.

"Father-son thing," Sam agreed, pointing at his dad.

"I mean, you don't have to call it that word if that makes you uncomfortable," Judy suggested. "You can call it... Sam's _happy_ time or—"

Sam stared wide-eyed, his jaw slack.

"Happy time?" he and his dad repeated, frowning.

"My _special _alone time—" she offered.

"Stop," Ron said.

"Mom. You—"

"Judy, _stop_."

"—with myself," she finished.

"Mom, you can't come in and—"

"I'm _sorry_." Her brows furrowed. "It's just been a weird night. I've had a little bit to drink…"

Ron returned to his original search, walking around the room curiously, passing by a window, his flashlight bouncing around the room.

"No, no, dad..." Sam sighed, closing his eyes.

"We saw a light," his dad told him.

"Oh, parents!" Optimus said, waving his comrades away to hide.

They circled the house, just barely getting out of Ron's line of sight as he walked to the bathroom.

"I don't know where it was, but we saw it…" Ron muttered, turning the flashlight all around.

With a grunt, Optimus fell backwards so Ron wouldn't see him.

The window outside showed a flash of sparks before the house shook once more.

"Earthquake!" Ron yelled. "It's another one! Another earthquake! Get in the doorway!"

"Okay!" Judy called back.

Ron hid in the bathtub, exclaiming, "Aftershock! Aftershock! Oh, I hate these."

Optimus waved at the others. "Quick, hide!"

The house lit up suddenly.

"Hey, the lights are back on!" Judy said happily, maneuvering around Sam's bedroom.

"Hide? What? Where?" Jazz wondered.

"Come on, get out of that tub," Judy told Ron, finding him in the bathroom.

"Oh!" Jazz ducked as Ron appeared in the window once more.

"Can't you take safety seriously?" Ron wondered, turning his flashlight around outside.

"Your floor is _filthy, _Sam!" Judy chastised.

"Oh… Oh, _no!_ Look at the yard," Ron complained, tisking. "The yard is _destroyed_!" he told the others. "Sheesh!"

Meanwhile, the Autobots were each pressed close to the house, trying to keep from being seen, some bending around the house while others were hidden around the corner of it. Bumblebee was curled up beneath the deck trellis and hanging lamps.

"Judy? Better call the city. We got a blown transformer! Power pole's sparking all over the place! Aw, man… Yard's a waste." He frowned. "Trashed. Gone." Ron left the window. "It's a wash. The whole yard."

"You're kidding…"

The Autobots slowly left their hiding spots.

"The parents are_ very_ irritating..." Ironhide said, turning a cannon toward the empty window. "Can I take them out?"

"Ironhide!" Optimus said, walking to him. "You know we don't harm _humans._" He stabbed a hand at him. "What is _with_ you?"

"Well, I'm just _saying…_" He shrugged. "We _could_… It's an _option_."

Inside, Judy was interrogating her son again, looking very unimpressed. "We heard you talking to somebody, Sam. We wanna know who!"

"Mom, I— I told y—"

Rolling her eyes, Chloe figured enough was enough. Sam had done all he could to distract them, but with the lights back on it was going to be a lot harder. Climbing out of her hiding place, she cleared her throat. "Before this gets any more awkward…" She waved a hand. "Totally my fault, Mrs. Witwicky…"

"Chloe!" she exclaimed, looking from her to Sam. With a bright grin, she shook her son's shoulder. "Sammy… You could've told us your _girlfriend _was here…"

Ron nodded, smirking at his son. "Didn't I tell you? I _told _you… I'm glad you finally took my advice."

With a happy giggle, Judy said, "Oh, I just knew you two…" She pointed between them. "When he came home and he said he was going to hang out with you, the new girl in town, I just knew…" She shook her head. "Two _years_ though!" Her brows furrowed. "What took you so _long?"_ She slapped Sam's shoulder lightly. "_Huh?" _She wrinkled her nose in confusion. "She's so _pretty_, Sam, why did you _wait?"_ She clucked her tongue before turning back to Chloe and grinning brightly. "Even covered in dirt, look at you!"

"Okay…" Sam turned his eyes up and sighed. "That's enough. Okay."

"I'm sorry it's so late, but…" She shrugged, her eyes wide with innocence. "I have this really important essay to hand in tomorrow and—" She laughed, shaking her head. "—_stupidly_, I left all my notes with Sam…" She waved a hand around his room. "We were just looking for his bag when the lights went out, so…"

"Right, sure, _homework_." Judy winked at her knowingly before giggling under her breath. She elbowed Ron and said, "Isn't that what we used to call it, honey?"

Looking far more serious, Ron turned to his son, "You were using protection, weren't you? Because I'm way too young to be a grandfather, Sam! I mean it, you—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" He held his hands up, shaking his head. "Homework means _real_ homework, okay? In this case, right here…" He motioned between himself and Chloe. "_Friendship_," he enunciated, nodding. "There's no—We don't _need _protection, okay? And if—If we did…" His eyes darted to his dad. "I would, okay? I would do that, so you don't… I won't… No babies." He nodded rapidly, fidgeting with his hands.

"_Right_…" Chloe smiled awkwardly. "Anyway, do you guys know where his bag is? 'Cause it's _way _past my curfew…"

"Oh! It's in the kitchen," Judy told them, nodding.

Unbeknownst to the distracted group, a succession of four black GMC SUV's with red and blue lights flashing had driven down the quiet street to stop in front of the Witwicky house. Men in black suits filed out and walked across the lawn, while a few others in white lab coats made for the backyard.

Rushing into his kitchen, Sam spotted his bag on the counter and searched through it frantically. When he found they case containing the glasses, he sighed in relief. "Oh, yes. Okay. Okay. Yeah…" He nodded to himself, hugging the case to his chest.

Chloe followed behind him, dropping her tote bag on the counter next to her arm as she stared down at the glasses, her brows furrowed. "Kind of crazy when you think about it…"

He looked over at her, his brow cocked. "What d'you mean?"

"Well…" she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "One old pair of glasses holds not only a map to the All Spark or whatever, but…" She nodded her chin toward it. "If anybody had known that, maybe Great-Great-Grampa Witwicky wouldn't have died in a psych ward…" She clucked her tongue. "Talk about unfair…"

Sam frowned. "Yeah…" He stared down at the case thoughtfully. "Yeah, that really does suck…"

"The big one," she agreed. Turning around, she leaned back against the counter. "All right…" She hiked her eyebrows. "I'm gonna go see if your mom wants to share any embarrassing stories about you while _you_… sneak those out to the alien army in your backyard."

He nodded, but as she turned to walk away, he shook his head. "Wait, wait, wait! You—You're… not really gonna get her to tell you stories, are you?" he asked anxiously, staring searchingly after her.

She twirled, walking backwards and smirking at him. With a scoff, she asked, "What d'you think?"

As she walked into the living room, Sam cursed under his breath and prayed his mom wouldn't tell too many.

But, then, Chloe was a pro at digging out the truth…

Suddenly, the rapid-fire ringing of the doorbell drew attention, and paused both teenagers in their tracks.

Chloe turned to him. "You get a lot of visitors after eleven at night on a _Sunday?_"

Sam looked at her, shaking his head grimly.

Grimly, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Then why don't we wait and see who it is before we go out there…"

He licked his lips, eyes darting to the door. "My _parents _are out there…"

"Yeah, two people who _haven't _met a bunch of aliens tonight…" She shook her head. "They'll be _fine_." She reached for her bag. "And if they're not, then I'll break out my handy-dandy tazer."

He snorted, but stayed in the kitchen.

At the front door, a man was peering through the mail slot suspiciously, eyes darting all around.

Irritably, Ron went to answer it, pulling the door open and staring at the tall, wiry man in front of him.

"Ronald Wickety?" he asked, standing up straight and raising a brow.

"It's _Witwicky_. Who are you?"

"We're the government." He shoved a badge with a blue gem in the center in Ron's face. "Agent Simmons. _Sector Seven_."

And the night got even more interesting.

[**Next**: Part VI.]


	6. Part VI

**Title**: Transformers: Heroic Hearts  
><strong>Category<strong>: Smallville/Transformers  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Humor/Action/Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Chloe Sullivan/Sam Witwicky  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Giant spoilers, violence, strong language, sexuality  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Whole chunks of the movie Transformers (2007) were rewritten here for coherence, so any of those who haven't seen the movies would be able to understand. I take no credit for any parts recognizable to the brand or the movies themselves.  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 8,367  
><strong>Overall Status<strong>: Complete  
><strong>Summary<strong>: (AU) All Sam wanted was a car and the girl of his dreams. He gets both; only neither are who or what he expected.

**_Transformers: Heroic Hearts_**  
>-Novel-<p>

**VI.**

At the front door of the Witwicky house, a man was peering through the mail slot suspiciously, eyes darting all around.

Irritably, Ron went to answer it, pulling the door open and staring at the tall, wiry man in front of him.

"Ronald Wickety?" he asked, standing up straight and raising a brow.

"It's _Witwicky_. Who are you?"

"We're the government." He shoved a badge with a blue gem in the center in Ron's face. "Agent Simmons. _Sector Seven_."

Ron peered at it, frowning, before telling him, "Never heard of it."

"Never _will_." He put his badge away, keeping his eyes firmly on Ron. "Your son's the great-grandson of Captain Archibald Wickity, is he not?"

His eyes widened at the slight. "It's _Witwicky_."

"May I enter the premises—" Simmons stepped forward and into the doorway, before turning and adding in a superior edge, "_sir?_"

"Ron!" Judy called, peering out the windows with a frown. "There's guys all over the front yard."

As numerous agents filed into his house, Ron demanded, "What the heck is going on here?"

"Your son filed a stolen car report last night," Simmons told him. "We think it's involved in a national security matter."

"National security?" he repeated, following him.

"They're ripping up my rose bushes!" Judy exclaimed

Simmons walked around slowly, peering at everything suspiciously. "That's right. National security."

"My God, Ron, they're everywhere!" Judy's voice carried on angrily. "There's guys in suits all around the house!" She twirled, waving at the windows where flashlight beams could be seen outside. "Look at this!"

"Could you stay off the grass?" Ron yelled out his backdoor at them.

"Get me a sample and some isotope readings," Simmons barked.

One man plucked a plant right out of its pot, depositing it in a bag.

"They're pulling bushes out of the ground! Good Lord!"

Outside, a scientist took a reading of a lilac bush before pointing at it for an agent to gather.

"They've got to get their hands off my bush!" Judy demanded, lifting her bat up in the air and stomping toward the backyard.

"Drop the bat, ma'am," the agent told her, standing in her way and gripping the bat to keep her from swinging it.

Ron intervened. "Hey, hey, hey, that's my—!"

"I'm carrying a _loaded_ weapon," Agent Simmons warned, while another agent waved a hand at Ron telling him to stop.

"But you'd better get those guys out of my garden or I am gonna _beat_ the _crap _out of them!" Judy warned, wagging a finger in his face.

Turning on a blue light, Simmons waved it in her eyes, asking simply, "Are you experiencing any flu-like symptoms? Aching joints? Fever?"

"_No!_" Judy exclaimed.

Sam and Chloe, hearing the raised voices, finally rushed into the room, with the former looking around in confusion, his brows furrowed. "What is this?" he asked.

Simmons tossed Judy's bat to his partner and turned a smile on the two teenagers. "How you doing, son?" he exclaimed cheerfully. "Is your name Sam?"

Looking around uncertainly, he answered, "_Yeah_."

"Well, I need you to come with us."

"What?" Judy shook her head, holding her hands up defensively as she moved to stand with her family.

"You can't _do _that!" Chloe exclaimed, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"You are _way_ out of line," Ron told him, standing in front of Sam protectively.

"Sir, I am asking… _politely_." Simmons paused, staring at them firmly, before saying, "Back off."

"You're not taking my son. Really."

Below, Mojo barked protectively, snarling and yapping at the agent.

"You gonna try to get rough with us?" Simmons asked, brows furrowed

"No, but I'm gonna call the cops—" He stabbed a hand through the air.

"Yeah," Judy agreed, nodding.

"—because there's something fishy going on around here!"

Sam grabbed his dad's arm when he leaned forward angrily.

Simmons laughed. "Yeah." He used his pen to point at each of them, saying, "There's something a little fishy about you, your son, your little Taco Bell dog and this whole operation you got going on here." His eyes widened for emphasis as he put his pen away.

"What operation?" Ron demanded.

Judy leaned down to gather up a still snarling and barking Mojo.

"That is what we are gonna find out," he said meaningfully.

A balding agent appeared then and told the other seriously, "I think _direct _contact."

Simmons' eyes narrowed in surprise before he turned to look at Sam. He turned back to his teammate, who nodded at him, and then took the machine he held in his hands. "Son?" His expression serious, Simmons stepped toward them.

"Yeah?" Sam said carefully.

"Step forward, please."

Sam moved between his parents and shook his head. "Just stand?"

Simmons raised a black, plastic wand-reader and waved it down Sam's front, pausing at his shoulder. Eyes wide, he looked from Sam to his beeping reader and then said, "_Fourteen_ rads…" The bleeping only got louder as he watched, biting his lip. Finally, he exclaimed, "_Bingo!_" Turning to the other agents, Simmons told them, "Tag them and bag them!"

"What?" Judy looked at her husband wonderingly.

The agents marched toward them then, handcuffs ready.

Sam turned around to look at his parents, his father's grim face peering back at him.

"Dad? I—"

"Don't say a word," Ron told him, shaking his head. "They ask you anything, you ask for a lawyer! You _hear me_, Sam? A _lawyer!_"

He nodded rapidly, eyes moving to Chloe.

"I won't say a word," she promised, staring him in the eye. Her arms were pulled behind her back, handcuffs tightened around her wrists. She hiked her eyebrows and reiterated, "_Nothing_."

He swallowed tightly.

And finally they were being hauled out of the house.

Ron and Judy were escorted by a separate agent, while Mojo was being led away on a safety stick.

"If you hurt my dog, I'll kick your ass!" Judy yelled.

"Get me a sample on that vegetation ASAP!" Simmons demanded.

As Sam was lead away, Ron called after him again, "Sam! Do not say anything, Sam!"

"Yeah," he promised.

"Not a word until we get a lawyer!"

"Okay."

"And _Chloe_—"

"I know the drill, Mr. Witwicky!" she assured, before her head was shoved down and she was pushed into the SUV.

Chloe sighed, looking over at Sam next to her, their arms trapped behind their backs.

Brows furrowed, he shook his head. "I'm sorry," he muttered, eyes darting from her to the agents in the front. Simmons sat distractedly in the passenger seat.

"Hey, we talked about this," she reminded, half-smiling. "I _live _for this kind of stuff…"

Sam tried to smile. "Yeah, well, somehow I don't think getting you arrested was what you had in mind today…"

"Getting arrested… Beating you at air hockey…" She shrugged lightly. "They're practically the same thing!"

He snorted.

Holding up a baggie, Simmons peered at the contents, turning it this way and that. "So, uh… _LadiesMan two-seventeen_…" He reached into the bag and pulled out a cell phone. Turning around, he held it up for Sam to see. Forehead wrinkled, he asked mockingly, "That _is_ your eBay username, right?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "I told you how generic that was," she muttered. "I can't believe you haven't changed it."

"It was a _typo_," he argued pathetically. "I ran with it…"

"Well, what do you make of this?" the agent asked, pressing a button that had a voice recording playing.

"_My name is Sam Witwicky, okay? And my, uh, car—_"

"Is that you?"

"That could be _anyone_," Chloe said airily, raising a brow.

He stared at her through narrowed eyes before looking back to Sam. "Night before last at the station, you told the officer your car _transformed_…" His brows rose. "Enlighten me."

"Well, here's what I said, okay?" He shook his head. "'Cause this is a—a _total_ misunderstanding. My car had been _stolen_—"

He tisked. "_Really?"_

_"_From me." He stared at him, eyebrows hiked, eyes wide. "Uh, from my home and— But it's fine now," he assured, shaking his head. "Because it's back! It came back!"

"It was brought back. Dropped off," she corrected, frowning at Sam. "Thief must have had a change of heart."

"Yeah, uh, yeah…" Sam nodded, eyes darting away nervously. "Definitely. Must'a—Must'a just felt so— so _bad_, y'know, 'cause I mean, I—it was my first car, right? And—And I didn't—Didn't deserve that, so…"

"Sure, sure…" Simmons smiled obligingly. His face suddenly went completely blank a second later, however, and he asked, "So what do you kids know about aliens, huh?"

Sam swallowed tightly, tipping his head. "Oh, you mean, like a _Martian_?" He feigned confusion. "Like what, E.T.? Pfft!" He laughed awkwardly. "No."

Chloe blinked. "Completely overrated."

Unimpressed, Simmons pulled out his badge. "You see this?" He waved it at them. "This is my 'I-can-do-whatever-I-want-and-get-away-with-it' badge." He stared wide-eyed at Sam.

"Right…" Sam muttered.

"Huh?" He glared. "I'm gonna lock you up _forever_."

"On what charge?" Chloe demanded. "Seriously, _spare me_…" She leaned forward, meeting him eye to eye. "I don't want to burst that narcissistic little bubble you're living in, but buddy all you have is circumstantial evidence that won't hold up in any court _anywhere_…" She shook her head. "Reasonable doubt, Agent Wannabe… All you have in your hand is a recording my friend here made for a web-show he's making…" She smiled brightly at him. "So why not put your awful rendition of Bad Cop away and start writing the public apology I'm going to demand you give us!"

Simmons glared at her, sneering back, "_You_, in the training bra, do not test me… I wouldn't be so quick to start playing innocent when you've been on the FBI's watch list since you learned how to put those fingers to good use on a keyboard…" He smirked darkly. "Terrorism doesn't look good on a college transcript, all right Snarky Barbie?"

"Terrorism?" Sam repeated, looking at Chloe in confusion.

She scoffed. "An overused word for the government's _security _problem!"

"_Hacking _into _classified _files under the jurisdiction of the United States Government is no laughing matter, young lady!" Simmons exclaimed back.

"You _hacked _into the _government?_" Sam whisper-shouted.

She rolled her eyes. "Once or twice!" She shrugged. "It's their own fault for having such a crappy firewall!"

"_What?_"

"Sam, you of all people know how quickly I get bored and playing Sherlock Holmes to a bunch of suburbanites was not cutting it!" she exclaimed. Sighing, she continued, "The temptation was there and once I realized how easy it was…" She shook her head. "I might, occasionally, send them snarky little tips on how to tighten up their security…" Her lips quirked with a smirk. "And then find ways to get around those too…"

"I can't even…" He shook his head. "I can't believe…" He scoffed, eyes searching. "This is why your dad makes all those Gitmo jokes…" he said, brows furrowing with realization.

"Yeah, well…" She shook her cuffed wrists. "He might've had a point."

"And we've been on to her ever since!" Simmons boasted, stabbing a finger in her direction. "_Oh yeah_, reasonable doubt is right out the window, Princess!" He smirked toothily. "We got enough to put you away for a good, _long _time!"

Chloe shook her head, but Sam could see her face had paled.

"Now wouldn't it be sad if your little girlfriend here had to rot in jail the rest of her natural _life?_" the agent implied at Sam.

His eyes fell as he stared at the back of the seat, his jaw ticking. The war between what was right and loyalty clear in the way his eyes darted indecisively, knee bouncing anxiously.

In the back of the car, the machine the Sector Seven agents had been using to detect whether the Autobots had been there began to beep and tick wildly.

"It is time to _talk!_" Simmons barked.

Suddenly, the front windshield shattered as something came down hard against it, a red and blue blur was all they could see before the car was sent into a spin.

It bounced off of Optimus' foot, while the SUV behind it swerved into the other leg, coming to a very abrupt stop, though the wheels kept spinning.

Arm up to protect himself, Simmons whimpered in surprise.

The driver shouted, "Big! It's big!" while he looked out the window to get a better look.

Through the windows on either side, Optimus' hands burst through to grip the roof of the SUV.

It rose slowly off the ground, the passengers inside hollering and screaming, the agents scrambling in their seats.

"I can't see it! I can't see it!"

"Oh God!

"It's falling, it's falling!"

The roof ripped from the top and the SUV landed back on the ground, sparking on impact, windows shattering.

Tossing the roof away, Optimus stood above, staring down.

The two agents looked up at him in wide-eyed shock.

"Whoa…"

No longer afraid, Sam leaned over to the agent in charge and told him, "You assholes are in trouble now… _Gentlemen_," He looked between them, "I want to introduce you to my friend…" He looked up at the giant Autobot with no little amount of pride. "Optimus Prime."

"Taking the _children_…" Optimus growled, "was a _bad_ move."

Various Sector Seven agents circled the destroyed SUV, their guns raised.

"_Autobots!_" He took a step back. _"_Relieve them of their weapons."

Behind them, the others rallied along the top of an unmoving freight train.

Hopping down, some even showing off with back flips, they raised their own built-in armory and walked up behind them.

"Freeze!" Ironhide demanded. Lifting his arm, his hand spun, and magnetically ripped away their every weapon.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Simmons stood in his seat and raised his hands up in the air in a sign of surrender.

Optimus knelt down in front of them, bringing his face in close to stare at the man.

"Hi there," Simmons said, smiling vaguely.

"You don't seem afraid…" he noted, shaking his head. "Are you not _surprised_ to see us?"

"_Look_… there are S-7... protocols... okay?" He shook his head, waving a hand around. "I'm not authorized to communicate with you except to _tell _you I _can't_ communicate with you."

"Get out of the car," he growled.

"All right. All right. Me?" He pointed back to himself, nodding. "You want me to—"

"Now!" he yelled.

"All right, all right. Get out. Hey. All right, I'm... Yeah, I'm getting out." Simmons looked back to make sure Optimus could see he was cooperating, while he and his fellow agent climbed out of the SUV. "I'm getting out. You see?"

Chloe and Sam leapt up out of their seats and struggled to climb out over the shattered windows on the pavement below. Finally,t hey circled around to the startled agents.

"Keys," Chloe demanded, flipping her hands up in askance.

The driver, jaw ticking irritably, reached into his pocket and retrieved the keys. He unlocked Sam first, who then took the keys and unlocked Chloe's.

She turned around, sighing as the pressure on her shoulders relaxed.

Staring at her, brows still furrowed, Sam finally shook his head. He took her wrists in his hands and started rubbing at the red marks there. "Gitmo, huh?"

She half-smiled, watching his thumbs move over her wrists delicately, wondering if he could feel her pulse hammering away. "You know me…" she murmured. "Always looking for the next secret to uncover…"

Nodding, Sam raised his head. "Yeah, well…" He nodded over to Optimus. "I think you hit the mother load here, Sullivan…"

She grinned.

Behind them, Simmons could be heard trying to pacify Optimus, "Very nifty how you put us down without really... killing us."

Sam turned his attention to the group of agents. "We need to know who they are… and what the hell they want…"

She smirked. "Interrogation is my favorite," she said, eyes flashing gleefully.

With a short laugh, he crossed the street to stand before the arrogant lead agent. "What is S-7?" he demanded.

Arms spread out, Simmons stared back defiantly.

"_Answer me_!"

"I'm the one who asks questions around here." He got in his face, shouting, "_Not you_, young man!

"You weren't afraid of Optimus, which means you knew all about them and their kind…" Chloe stared at him searchingly. "_How?_"

"Yeah! And where did you take my parents?"

"I am not at liberty to discuss—"

Chloe shook her head, cutting him off, her tone low and warning, "Either you tell me, or I hack into your little Sector Seven country club and not only find what I want, but I expose every last inch of information on you to anybody who wants to know…"

Sam nodded, waving a finger at her. "She'll do it, too! I've seen her! She—She's a frickin' _genius_, okay? The whole damn world is gonna know _all _about you!"

For a moment, the agent looked unsure, eyes darting between them, mouth ajar. But finally, he snapped his mouth shut and stood his ground. Again, he said, "I am not at liberty to discuss—"

Having enough, Sam's hand darted forward, reaching into the agent's front jacket pocket. "No?"

"Hey! You touch me, that's a federal offense!"

"Do-whatever-you-want-and-get-away-with-it badge, right?" Sam waved it in his face before taking a few steps back, flipping it over and examining it.

Chloe leaned in close to get a good look.

"You ever see anything like this when you were hacking them?" he wondered, raising a brow at her.

Biting her lip, she shook her head. "Every once in awhile I'd hit an S-7 block, but I didn't know what it was… Most of the time, I just check to see where my uncle's been deployed and then tease them for being so easy to hack…"

Frowning, Sam nodded. He glanced at Simmons and shook his head. "I don't like this guy… We need to find you a computer and see what he's all about…"

Noticing his glare, Simmons mocked, "Yeah. _Brave _now all of a sudden, with his big alien friend standing over there…"

"Or we could try interrogating him again… Maybe if we piss him off enough, he'll tell us what we want to know," Chloe suggested. "Like where you parents are…"

Sam nodded. "Worth a shot…"

They walked back over to him, with Sam demanding immediately, "Where is Sector Seven?"

Simmons smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Standing just behind him, Bumblebee reached down to his waist and fiddled with something. A cover popped off and hit the agent in the back of the head, confusing him a moment. Bumblebee put his hands on his hips and thrust them out; suddenly a gush of liquid began spilling out all over the agent and his team.

"Ayyyy! Hey!" he hollered, closing his eyes.

"Bumblebee!" Optimus' voice echoed. "_Stop_ lubricating the man!"

"Get that thing to stop, _huh?_"

Bumblebee put his arms out and shrugged.

Chloe snorted, raising an amused brow.

"Have I told you he's my favorite?" she asked Sam.

He grinned, eyes looking up at his car-turned-Autobot. "He's pretty awesome," he mused.

Back to business, she sighed, eyeing the agents. "What are we gonna do about them?"

Sam shook his head. "They've all got handcuffs, right? Let's show 'em what it's like on the other side of it…"

With a devilish grin, she stepped forward to do just that.

A little while later, Sam tipped his head thoughtfully at Chloe's handy work; each agent was hugging another, their arms cuffed behind their hugging-partner's back. And like a chain-link, the next group-of-two would twine their arms into the one before it, until there was only Simmons and the driver.

"Around the pole, Dirty Harry…" Chloe said, motioning Simmons forward with her head.

Sneering, he wrapped his arms around the pole. "You're gonna pay big for this, Little Girl," he warned as she cuffed him.

"My name's already written all over Gitmo, remember?" She locked the driver's wrist to one of his. "So why not have a little fun until then?"

"This is such a felony, what you're doing," the driver said.

"I will hunt you down, okay?" Simmons snarled.

"He'll hunt you _down!_"

"With any remorse!"

"_No_ remorse!"

Chloe grabbed up her bag and hooked it over her shoulder before joining Sam as they walked back toward the Autobots.

Turning to the driver, Simmons said, "We have to alert _everyone_."

"They already know," he informed him, smirking. He turned a phone in his direction and explained, "_Speaker_."

Far down the street, numerous cop cars and helicopters were en route to them.

Chloe heard the whir of the blades cutting the air and looked over to Sam grimly.

"Y'know, I recently realized prison just isn't the life for me…" She shook her head. "And handcuffs don't go well with _anything_ I own…"

He tried to smile.

"Optimus!" Ironhide exclaimed. "Incoming!"

The Autobots got into defensive stances, some kneeling while others had their arms held aloft.

Ironhide rolled, slamming a fist down onto the pavement, sending a pulse across the road that blew out the tires of the oncoming SUVs.

"Roll out!" Optimus declared.

Returning to their vehicle-state, the Autobots readied to retreat peacefully, not wanting to engage the humans if it meant hurting them.

Unfortunately, Sector Seven weren't so easily avoided.

While the rest of the Autobots raced away from where the bound S-7 agents were locked to the railroad lights, Sam and Chloe stood next to Optimus, watching wide-eyed as a swarm of government agents continued toward them.

Bending low, Optimus held out a large, metal hand. "Up you get," he told them.

They climbed up into his hand and held tight to his fingers as he stood once more, raising his palm with him.

Sam moved into the cover of Optimus' shoulder, reaching back a hand to steady Chloe as she joined him. Bent with their knees to their chests, they looked out at the helicopters circling above the bridge.

Optimus started running, searching for cover.

Chloe's breath hitched. "Have I mentioned I'm not a huge fan of heights?" she asked, laughing shakily.

Sam reached out and grabbed her hand. "Keep your eyes on me, all right?" He pointed at his face. "Right here. Don't look away, okay?"

She stared at him, her chest heaving. "And miss all the action?" she joked.

He smiled, laughing shortly.

Optimus turned away from the bridge and started toward a main street. His every stomping footstep seemed to crack the pavement beneath him as he weaved through cars and ducked away from the spotlight the helicopter turned every which way as it chased him.

Turning a corner, he ran down a side street, behind a dark building, losing the helicopter for a moment.

As he moved further away and out of sight, he found a second bridge and climbed up between the pillars to hide, just barely lifting his leg before the two helicopters flew in beneath, spotlights flashing along the dried out waterway below. Hidden in a push-up position, hands and feet braced across cement beams, Optimus watched the helicopter turn around as if to double back.

Chloe and Sam were forced to climb up higher, hugging the blue and red covers across his shoulder.

Down the waterway, Bumblebee sped toward them, kicking up dust as he drove along a concave wall.

"Easy, you two," Optimus told them.

The two helicopters slowly made their way back beneath the bridge when suddenly one of Optimus' hands slipped, jarring him down a few inches.

Chloe was tossed from his shoulder, falling rapidly.

Sam reached out just in time to grab her hand.

She swung dangerously and he grunted at the pressure against his arm. He slipped from his own position; his other hand gripped the very edge of one of Optimus' plates.

The second helicopter flew beneath them, blades cutting through the air viciously, but beneath Chloe's dangling feet.

Sam hung perilously, clenching his teeth against the pain. He looked back at a terrified Chloe, her face flushed and her eyes wide.

He shook his head, the veins along his neck drawn tight. "I won't let go!" he promised, his brows furrowed tightly. "I _won't!_"

Panting, she looked from their joined hands to where his was slipping from Optimus, back and forth, before finally she swallowed tightly and her face went blank. "I'm sorry," she breathed.

"Hold on!" Optimus yelled.

Chloe stared searchingly into Sam's eyes before she finally squeezed his fingers.

"Don't!" he screamed.

But she'd already let go, falling swiftly toward the hard, unforgiving cement below.

"_Chloe!_" Sam hollered, slipping too as he reached wildly after her.

Flipping through the air, he screamed in fear.

But just short of the cement below, Optimus flipped down and managed to kick them up just a few more feet in the air. And as they descended once more, Bumblebee launched into the air before them, transforming into his robot body and grabbing them each from the air. He slid across the pavement on his stomach, metal on cement sending up sparks, holding his arms up, keeping the teenagers just out of danger's reach.

Archibald's glasses broke free and rolled across the ground.

As Bumblebee's arms dropped carefully, his fingers released them, and the two fell to the ground, panting together.

Chloe shoved to her feet and pressed a hand to her heaving stomach. She stepped out of a puddle of stale water, her feet and the bottoms of her jeans soaking wet.

"What the hell was that?" Sam suddenly yelled, jumping up and advancing toward her. He pointed back toward where Optimus was hidden once more. "What—What were you _thinking?_" He stabbed his temple with his fingers. "Huh? Why would you—?"

"I was thinking your hand was slipping!" she shouted back, her nerves shot and her patience gone. "I was thinking one of us dying made more sense than _two!" _She shoved his chest. "I was thinking you were supposed to save the world with those stupid glasses and I'm pretty good at self-sacrifice already so why not add this to the pile!"

"No, no…" He walked back toward her. "Listen to me—"

She shook her head, having reached her emotional peak.

"Listen to me!" he exclaimed, grabbing her arms and bringing his face in close to hers. "Don't ever do that again! All right?"

She struggled to get away from him, her throat burning with emotion, her eyes prickling with tears. So close; she'd been so close to death she could still feel its cold fingers clenched around her heart.

"No! Chloe! _Stop!_" He yanked her in close and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight, in part, just to keep her from getting away. "Jesus Christ…" he muttered into her hair. "Just don't…" He sighed, closing his eyes. "I thought I lost you…"

Slowly, she relaxed against him, her arms slipping around his waist, fingers gripping the back of his shirt. Closing her eyes as a few tears slipped free, she tried to explain, "I just… It made _sense_ at the time…"

"No…" He buried his fingers in her hair and held tight. "You never let go, all right?" He shook his head. "Never."

"Okay." She nodded slowly. "_Okay._"

The whirring of the helicopter drew their attention. They broke apart to see them coming up fast.

Bumblebee moved in front of them protectively.

Sam ran in front of him. "Stop! Stop!" he yelled, waving his arms when he saw the on-board gun turn in Bumblebee's direction. "Wait! No!"

Chloe circled around to look at Bumblebee. "You have to _run!_" she yelled at him.

His blue eyes darted to her, but he shook his head, raising his fists.

"This is _no time _for loyalty!" she screamed at him. "Don't you know what they'll do to you in some government lab somewhere!" She pushed at his leg. "Damn it, Bumblebee, _run!_"

"Chloe!" Sam wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back and out of the way as the gun took aim.

Instead of bullets, however, a hook and wire shot out of the gun and wrapped around Bumblebee's arm, yanking him in the other direction as it flew past him.

A second helicopter whizzed past and took aim.

"_Noooo!_" Sam screamed, squeezing Chloe painfully tight.

They shot at his legs next and, flying circles around him, they used the wires to pull his feet out from under him.

Bumblebee lay on the ground, fighting the pull, hands scraping at the cement as he tried to crawl away.

Chloe ran toward him, bending at his hands, reaching for the chords and trying to untie them, but the movement of the helicopters above had them swinging violently, pulled so taut that whenever she got a good hold on them, they tore at the skin of her palms. "Just stay calm," she tried to soothe. "I—I'll get them off!" Her breath stuttered, her eyes burning as he made a soft electronic cry, pleading for help. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry," she said, still clawing desperately at the wires.

The flashing headlights in the distance told her back-up was on the way, and not the friendly kind.

Sam turned in circles, yelling and pleading with them to stop.

The SUV's came to a screeching halt, agents pouring out, yelling at them, "Get down to the ground!"

Sam held his hands up behind his head, but Chloe shook hers, continuing to try and get Bumblebee free.

"Get down! Get down!"

Wearing full Kevlar gear and holding guns, a team rushed Sam, shoving him to his knees.

He turned his head, searching the area. "_Chloe!_"

She sniffled, wiping her face with her sleeve.

Bumblebee looked at her, the blue light of his eyes staring directly into hers. With an electronic whir, he nodded at her in understanding.

Bleeding hands still holding a wire tight, she shook her head.

"Back away!" an agent yelled at her.

She was grabbed by the shoulder and ripped away from him. "Hey! No!"

"Get off her!" Sam shouted, struggling against the agents shoving him down.

As she was drug away, Bumblebee tried to stand, pulling his arms back against the wires.

Agents circled him, dousing him in an unidentified white smoke.

"Look! He's not fighting back!" Sam exclaimed, staring at Bumblebee sorrowfully.

Whatever it was they were spraying, it was slowing him down until he collapsed on the hard ground, whining in protest but unable to fight anymore.

Sam was pulled up and dragged backwards toward the SUVs.

He shook his head. "Stop hurting him!" he pleaded, watching as Bumblebee reached out toward them, but was pulled back by the wires once more.

Sam stopped moving, wiggling out of the agent's arms and falling to the ground below, distraught. He watched as a confused and scared Bumblebee's eyes darted through the smoke, looking for him, for Chloe.

And finally, he shoved the agent's arm off him and ran toward Bumblebee.

Chloe stomped her foot down on the agent holding her, elbowing him in the face before joining Sam in his pursuit.

Sam launched himself at one of the men firing smoke at Bumblebee, knocking him back and fighting with him to get the spray-gun out of his hands.

Another agent grabbed him from behind and tackled him to the ground. Chloe jumped on his back and locked her arms around his neck. As the agent choked, Sam struggled to get free. But they were quickly surrounded once more.

Sam's arms were pulled behind his back and he was pushed toward the trucks again; he turned his head back around to see Bumblebee, stumbling in his steps as he stared on mournfully.

When he turned forward, he saw Chloe being shoved into an SUV and Simmons standing proudly, arms tucked behind his back, watching the progress.

Sam stopped in front of him, glaring darkly.

"Happy to see me again?" Simmons mocked.

Sam didn't say a word, panting harshly.

"Put him in a car with his little criminal friend," Simmons decided, motioning with his head.

Waving a finger in the air, he walked off, telling a fellow agent, "I want that thing frozen and ready for transport!"

…

Sam turned to Chloe as the door swung shut hard next to him.

She shook her head, blinking rapidly against the sting of frustrated tears. "It's not _right_…"

Sam nodded.

Sniffling, she bit at her lip. "They'll take him apart, Sam…" She inhaled sharply. "Like an _experiment!_ They _can't_…"

"Hey!" He shifted across the seat to her. "We won't let them, okay?" He stared at her searchingly. "We'll figure it out."

She licked her lips, closing her eyes tight.

"I ever lie to you?" he asked. "Huh?"

Breathing shakily, she furrowed her brows. "That time you told me you were so sick you couldn't move, but you really just didn't want to help me with that 3D model for history class…"

"Okay, youthful indiscretion, you can't hold it against me forever," he argued, pressing a hand to his chest.

She snorted.

"But other than that?" He quirked a brow.

She shook her head.

"All right, then _trust me_…" He nodded his chin out the window. "If we can't find a way, Optimus and the others will…" He stared at her sincerely, "We'll get Bumblebee back!"

Sniffing, she nodded. "Okay."

"Okay…" He shifted closer. "Now c'mere…"

With a laugh, she dropped her head to his shoulder, burying her face in his shirt.

"Sorry if I, y'know, smell, or whatever…" he muttered, suddenly self-conscious.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Really smooth, Sam…"

"Yeah, well…" He glanced down at her and then slowly let his cheek fall against her hair. Closing his eyes, he hoped he hadn't just lied to her…

They had to get Bumblebee back.

…

Above on the bridge, looking down on a now empty waterway, the Autobots collected.

"Hang back. Let me check it out," Jazz said, before climbing down the side to where Optimus was still hidden.

Optimus climbed lower, using the beams like monkey bars.

"Optimus… Are we just gonna stand here and do nothing?"

Hanging from just one arm, he said, "There's no way to free Bumblebee without harming the humans…"

"But it's not right!"

"Let them leave," he growled, looking away in defeat.

Below, he spotted the Witwicky glasses, glinting in the moonlight.

Reaching out, he plucked them up carefully between his fingers.

Raising them high, he showed the others.

_Mission__ accomplished._

What a hollow victory so far.

…

**Washington****, DC**  
><em>Pentagon<em>

Secretary Keller and his group of advisors sat before a line of screens in a teleconference with the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

"The Chinese and the Russians are nearing our area of operations in the western Pacific. We feel like this could get out of hand real fast…"

"But the next couple of hours… may just define his presidency," Keller replied.

Outside the room, a tall, slender man, was admitted through the air-locked doors.

Secretary Keller left the conference room, only to be informed by an officer that, "US and Chinese task forces approaching 100 nautical miles of cruise missile range."

"Tell the strike group commander that he's not to engage unless fired on first!" he demanded, waving his hands in front of him for emphasis.

"Yes, sir!"

Entering the room, the slender man, dressed in all black, said calmly, "Mr. Secretary?"

Keller slowed town, turning around, brows furrowed to stare at the man questioningly.

"Tom Banachek," he introduced himself. "I'm with Sector _Seven_, Advanced Research Division."

"Never heard of it," he replied dismissively. "I'm a little busy, Tom." He waved to the chaotic room, nodding. "I think you can see that." He turned to walk away.

Keller took no more than four steps before every screen in the room began blinking and rolling intelligibly, a screeching whir echoing from the monitors. He looked around in confusion, brows knotted. "Sit rep! Talk to me!"

"The whole room's gone down, sir."

"I can see that!"

"The virus was coded to shut us down," the Deputy Director informed him. "General?"

Watching knowingly, Banachek waved a finger behind him. "I'll take a seat," he said, walking away.

"What do you mean, shut us down?" Keller asked, approaching Brigham and the Director as they stood grouped with a few officers.

"They used our network to spread out to the whole world," an officer told him. "The blackout's global. We have no communications; satellite and land lines are dead."

Keller rubbed his neck and with a frown, circled the desk. "You mean to tell me that I cannot pick up this telephone and call my fam—?" He raised the receiver to his ear only to hear a ticking noise. Useless, he dropped it to the desk and reached for his cell phone. But it too had no service. Raising his head in dismay, he stared out worriedly.

"Mister Secretary?" Banachek called out, holding a brief case on the seat next to him, handcuffed to his wrist. "I'm here under direct order from the President."

Keller stared at him, brows raised. He turned to face him.

"You really need to see what I have in the case…" He laid it down on his lap and pressed a hand to it.

Not long later, Banachek was set up in a secure room with only Keller. He placed the briefcase on a table and opened it. Inside was a laptop, that he then placed upon the desk and with it, he took out a floppy disc.

"You'll have to accept that there are certain things you won't understand right away…" Banachek said, putting the disc in.

Keller stared on with narrowed eyes, hands clasped one on top of the other, elbows braced on the table before him.

"Sector Seven is a special-access division of the government… convened in secret under President Hoover eighty years ago." His eyebrows hiked. "You may remember NASA JPL lost the Beagle 2 Mars Rover. We told them to report the mission a complete failure. It wasn't." He shook his head. "Beagle 2 transmitted _thirteen_ seconds." He reached for the laptop, Keller's eyes following him. "This was classified _above_ top secret."

The screen showed a red, dusty plain and a moving camera atop a rover. It began moving forward, various attached cameras turned in all directions. The ground beneath was a reddish-yellow and cracked as though completely dried of any and all water. Suddenly, there was a whirring noise and a camera turned swiftly.

A shadow fell across the ground and the rover was lifted from the ground, the video's picture scattering.

Keller stared on with eyes, his brows furrowed heavily. His hand dropped from his mouth.

The rover was turned around and the camera caught the shape of a shadowed alien robot, its hand reaching out to cover the lens.

The screen went black.

"More than just a _pile_ of Martian rocks," Banachek said. He took out a page and handed it to Keller, saying, "This is the image from Mars…"

Keller stared down at the cleaned up picture of the figure he'd seen on the computer.

"Here's the image your Special Ops team was able to retrieve from the base attack…"

Keller took the glossy photo with his other hand and compared the two.

"We believe they are of the same exoskeletal _type_, and obviously not Russian or North Korean."

Keller's eyebrows hiked. "Are we talking about… an invasion?"

"We intercepted the message from your Special Ops team." He pointed to the pictures. "These things can be hurt by our weapons and now they know it. That's why the virus shut us _down_. So we can't coordinate against their next attack… Which I would bet my _ridiculous_ government salary is coming."

Keller sighed, lifting his chin.

"_Soon_."

Walking back into the computer room, Keller stopped a group of officers and told them, "Get word to our fleet commanders over the National Guard frequency. It's a shortwave radio channel. It might be still working." He waved his arms in frantic emphasis. "Tell them to turn their ships around and come home." He spun his arms around. "ASAP." As they left, he turned to another agent and said, "And inform all commands to prepare for _imminent _attack."

…

**California**

Sam was trying really hard to be stealthy, but he was pretty sure he was failing.

See, Chloe's hair smelled like apples.

He knew, 'cause she had her head on his shoulder and he'd been holding her since they left the _warzone _wherein a whole bunch of a-holes roped Bumblebee down and took him somewhere else; everybody was keeping tight-lipped on that front.

It'd only been a few minutes, but he was anxious, eyes darting out the tinted windows.

He didn't know where they were going or where his parents were or where Bumblebee had been taken or where the hell the rest of the Autobots were.

But he did know he had Chloe.

Chloe who smelled like apples and stood by him through this whole— This _crazy _experience that he was still trying to understand.

He bought a car. A broke-down Camaro in need of some serious paint. But it was his. His dream car that he was supposed to use to get Mikaela's attention and start his happily-little-whatever with her.

And now he didn't have a car, but an alien robot; a whole damn _fleet _of them. And he didn't have Mikaela, he had _Chloe_.

His best friend.

A girl he'd trust with _anything_.

A girl willing to save the whole freakin' world with him.

Who, dangling precariously, with no chance of survival if she fell, let go of his hand because she saw _he _was slipping.

Who risked _Gitmo _to help him and his car.

Who willingly drove out to meet him even when he said he had a killer car on his tail.

Who made him laugh.

Who told him he was awesome just the way he was, no need for popularity or a car or any of that other— that _pretentious_, meaningless shit.

And he wondered what the hell Mikaela Banes ever had on Chloe Sullivan.

He couldn't come up with one damn thing.

So he closed his eyes and he breathed in the apple scent of her hair, and he grinned to himself.

The whole world was going to hell, but hey, at least he had Chloe.

His eyes darted open when he felt her hand on his knee; he hadn't realized it was bouncing until she stopped it.

"Nervous?" she asked.

He swallowed tightly. "I just… Where do you think they're taking us?" he wondered, lowering his voice so the agents wouldn't hear.

Turning her head, she looked up at him. "We officially left Burbank ten minutes ago…"

He nodded, chewing his lip as his eyes darted out the windows searchingly.

"My dad's probably going out of his mind," she muttered, frowning worriedly.

He reached for her hand on his knee and squeezed it, but her wince had him looking down.

Her hand was torn to shreds.

"The hell…" He turned it over to see the palm was crusted in drying blood, the skin broken apart in clear lines.

She clenched her teeth as his fingers probed her palm carefully. He reached for the other one and laid them both out in his lap.

"It was stupid… I just— I thought I could untie them from his arms…" She shook her head, her brow furrowed. "In the moment, it seemed like a good idea, but—"

He stared at her, an overwhelming feeling of appreciation flooding through him. Licking his lips, he laughed shortly under his breath. He wasn't surprised. Chloe played the snarky, unconcerned teenager well, but he knew how much she cared. About him and his family and even Bumblebee. And Chloe would lay down her life for anybody she loved.

Having no words to even tell her how much it meant to him, that she was out there trying to get Bumblebee free, instead he lifted her hands and he kissed her wrists, his thumbs dragging along her pulse just after.

Speechless, she stared back at him with wide eyes.

Before she could ruin the moment though, he let her hands go and instead reached back and pulled off his long-sleeved shirt.

"Sam, what are you—?"

He tore the sleeves off and wrapped them each around her hands tightly. "Look, these guys aren't going to pull over and break out the First Aid Kit, all right?" He raised a brow at her, knotting the second one. "It—It's not— not _perfect_, but…" He shrugged.

Her head tipped, lips quirking in a faint smile. "Thanks…"

Nodding, he cleared his throat, and then, like the smooth genius he was, he tugged her back into his side and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

When her head fell back into the crook, he grinned to himself triumphantly.

…

**Nellis Air Force Base**

Dirty, sweaty, and exhausted, Lennox and Epps crossed the tarmac, bags over their shoulders and guns hanging steady at their sides, very much ready to get back home.

Three SUV's approached them, red and blue lights flashing.

"Captain Lennox!" an officer yelled, jogging toward them. "We need you and your team to come with us right now!" He grabbed Lennox's bag right out of his hands and started back to the truck. "Let's go!"

Lennox followed after him, brows furrowed as he turned to see Epps doing the same.

…

**Somewhere in California**

Chloe found the two agents riding up front unnerving.

Every time she or Sam asked a question, they received a blank expression or sometimes a judgmental raised eyebrow.

They'd been driving for nearly an hour and neither agent had said one word to them.

"Where are my _parents?_" Sam asked for the third time, sighing as he kicked the back of the driver's seat. "We're underage, y'know? Isn't there a— a _law_ against keeping us in custody without a parent or—or something like that?"

Neither replied.

Sam's eyes darted between them. "You guys new to town? You visit here often?"

Chloe bit her lip, amused.

"You wanna do some sightseeing?" he suggested, leaning forward, his arm sliding out from behind her to grip the shoulders of either front seat. "Maybe grab a tourist map, right, make a night of it?" He pretended to pick a piece of lint off the passenger-agent's shoulder. "How 'bout you? Huh? Hit some late-night clubs, get your groove on?" He nodded. "You look like a dancing kinda man to me… What do you like? Reggae? Techno?"

The agent's head swiveled toward him, lips pursed in a stern line.

"Techno, I get it." He patted his arm. "You like a good rave; no judgment…" He nodded his chin forward. "I know a place we can get you a glow-in-the-dark necklace, all right? Really do it up!"

Chloe face-palmed, stifling her laughter.

"Sit. _Back_. Mr. Witwicky," he replied darkly.

"All right, all right…" Sam held his hands up apologetically before leaning back. "You don't have to get all Agent Smith on me."

Chloe grinned at him. "Careful, Witwicky, you're letting your inner-geek show… A _Matrix_ nod, _really?_"

He shrugged. "We got an alien apocalypse coming our way, might as well let the freak-flag fly…"

She nodded approvingly at him. "Welcome to the Club…"

He laughed under his breath, but his face fell as the SUV slowed down. "Where are we?" he asked, looking around.

Chloe leaned forward to peer out the front windshield. "Looks like… your average military air base," she sighed, sitting back.

"Air base?" Sam looked from her to out the window. "We're _flying?_"

"Either that or they have some below-ground tunnels we don't know about…"

"Hey, buddy," Sam said, looking at the agent in the passenger seat. "I left my passport at home, you think we can make a U-ey?"

_Agent Smith_ glared at him, before turning back around and ignoring him completely once more.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "You're gonna get us shot," she muttered, tugging him back.

"Probably," he snorted.

…

**Washington****, DC**  
><em>Pentagon Interrogation Room<em>

Maggie was falling asleep, her legs crossed and sitting comfortably atop the table, she braced an arm on the back of her chair and balanced her head against it. Across from her, Glen was resting his head on top of his crossed arms over the table, a glass of water with an Alka Seltzer bubbling away and a bottle of Pepto Bismal left open next to him.

The door swung open suddenly, an agent saying, "She's in here."

Maggie sat upright, dropping her feet to the floor, and demanded of the FBI agent, "What's going on?"

Keller stepped into the room, attracting her attention when he replied, "You're coming with me.

Her head whirled around to face him, eyebrows hiked.

"You're going to be my advisor," he further explained.

"Me too?" Glen asked.

Keller looked at him, frowning. "Who's this?" he wondered, pointing.

Maggie turned to look at Glen and finally said, "He's… _my _advisor…"

Brow quirked, Keller looked between them uncertainly before inevitably deciding, "He comes too," and leaving the room.

…

**Unknown**

Sam squeezed Chloe's hand as they walked toward a waiting Army Blackhawk helicopter. The agents who drove them in shoved them forward and inside.

"Customer service around here sucks," Chloe muttered, climbing into the middle seat, an agent on one side and Sam on the other.

"Buckle up, kids!" the chopper's pilot told them, handing them a couple pairs of headphones, with mics attached to speak with the others on board.

As the helicopter rose up off the ground, she tensed, curling her hands into fists, fingers biting into the t-shirt-made-bandages.

Sam reached out and covered one of her hands, flipping it over and twining their fingers.

"I got you!" he promised, giving a sharp nod.

Chloe wondered when exactly three words were all she needed.

Deciding not to think on it too much, she chose to enjoy the short reprieve. Because with the way things were going, she just didn't know what might happen next. But she would lay money on nothing good.

[**Next**: Part VII.]


	7. Part VII

**Title**: Transformers: Heroic Hearts  
><strong>Category<strong>: Smallville/Transformers  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Humor/Action/Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Chloe Sullivan/Sam Witwicky  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Giant spoilers, violence, strong language, sexuality  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Whole chunks of the movie Transformers (2007) were rewritten here for coherence, so any of those who haven't seen the movies would be able to understand. I take no credit for any parts recognizable to the brand or the movies themselves.  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 7,385  
><strong>Overall Status<strong>: Complete  
><strong>Summary<strong>: (AU) All Sam wanted was a car and the girl of his dreams. He gets both; only neither are who or what he expected.

**_Transformers: Heroic Hearts_**  
>-Novel-<p>

**VII.**

The ride to places unknown was filled with an awkward silence, aside from the constant buzz of the helicopter and the rush of wind kicking up Chloe's hair into her face.

Across from them sat two obvious civilians; a stocky, black man with rectangular glasses and a slim, white, blonde woman.

Chloe glanced at them periodically before looking at Sam, who was doing the same.

"So…" he started.

The woman smiled kindly. "What did they get _you_ for?" she asked in an Australian accent.

"Uh…" He glanced down at Chloe. Looking back at the woman, he said, "I bought a car…" He nodded, unsure how to explain the rest. Finally, he just said, "Turned out to be an alien robot."

The man mouthed, "_Wow_," his eyes wide.

Sam shook his head, smiling awkwardly. "Who knew?"

She nodded, not really surprised by his revelation. "I'm Maggie," she told him, holding a hand out.

Sam reached forward and shook it.

"This is Glen," she introduced, pointing at the man on her left.

Glen waved, nodding his head.

"Sam," he told her. Lifting their joined hands, he used his thumb to point, adding, "Chloe."

"You own an alien robot car too, Chloe?" Maggie wondered.

"No…" She half-smiled. "Just friends with one."

"They're friendly?" Glen asked hopefully.

"Depends on who you meet…" she replied, turning to look at Sam meaningfully.

He nodded. "It's a _long _story…"

"We got a _long _ride," Maggie replied.

Dawn broke outside the windows of the helicopter as Sam and Chloe exchanged a look.

"What are _you _in for?" he asked Maggie.

She smirked. "Stealing government information because I thought an alien organism was hacking into us and I needed to confirm my theory…"

Chloe grinned. "I like the way you think."

Maggie laughed, offering up a slight shrug.

Licking his lips, Sam took a deep breath, figuring it was easier to start from the beginning.

…

Some time later, Chloe leaned across Sam to look out the window. "Are we at the _Hoover__ Dam?_"

Sam frowned.

The two Blackhawk helicopter's set down on a nearby tarmac and the agents quickly hustled everyone off.

Chloe lifted an arm to keep the dust from getting into her face.

Sam's hand spread across the small of her back as he directed her away from the helicopter.

Looking just past him, she frowned. "Is that the Secretary of Defense?"

He looked over as Keller left the second helicopter, escorted by various officers.

Agents shoved at Sam's back, moving him and Chloe along to be loaded into SUVs.

A short drive later, they crossed the Hoover Dam Bridge and were let out among the gathered tourists.

Chloe and Sam walked to the edge to peer down below at the still water. She dropped her bag next to her and let her eyes wander around. "You know… This would probably be a lot more interesting if we weren't recently visited by aliens… Somehow, it just doesn't have the same effect."

Sam snorted. "We should put that on the comment card."

Grinning, she rested her chin in her hand, clenching her teeth at the twinge of pain. "Somehow I don't think that will go over well with the government."

"Speaking of…" He nodded his head toward the approaching FBI agents, speaking into their cuffs.

"Fantastic…" she muttered, turning around to meet them.

…

Out of civilian sight, Bumblebee was being hauled inside the Hoover Dam, continuously doused with cryoblasts to keep him docile. He was then brought to a laboratory and placed on an examination table, strapped down beneath numerous lasers and surrounded by scientists. Crying out in pain, he was mercilessly experimented on by Sector Seven.

…

**Los Angeles****, California**

_Griffith__ Observatory_

Climbing all along the ivory building, with the waves of the Pacific crashing in the southwest and the busy streets of LA to the southeast, the Autobots stood impatiently as Optimus brought out the glasses. He bent over them, staring at them hopefully, and said to himself with sincere desperation, "Please… Let this work."

Finally, he turned around to face the others.

Jazz, walking along the roof above, called out, "Fire it up, Optimus."

Holding them at face level, Optimus shot blue light from his eyes, right into the crack made in Archibald's glasses. In front of him, for all to see, was a blue and green globe. It spun slowly before them. "The code… The code on these glasses indicates the All Spark is two hundred and thirty miles from here," he told them. As the lasers from his eyes shut down, he lowered the glasses.

Ratchet warned, "I sense the Decepticons are getting ready to mobilize…"

"They must know it's here, as well," Ironhide said, nodding.

"What about Bumblebee?" Jazz asked, pacing above. "We can't just leave him to die and become some human experiment!"

"He'll die in _vain_ if we don't accomplish our mission!" Optimus argued. "Bumblebee is a _brave _soldier. _This—"_He stabbed a hand down meaningfully, "—is what he would want."

"_Why_ are we fighting to save the humans?" Ironhide wondered. "They're a _primitive_ and _violent _race."

"Were _we_ so different?" he asked wisely. "They're a _young_ species. They have much to learn. But I've seen _goodness_ in them. _Freedom _is the right of _all _sentient beings… You all know there's only one way to end this war. We _must_ destroy the Cube… If all else fails, I will unite it with the Spark in my chest…" He opened the plates to show them the whizzing blue light hidden inside.

"That's _suicide!_" Ratchet exclaimed. "The Cube is raw _power_." He waved a hand seriously and shook his head. "It could destroy you _both_."

"A necessary sacrifice to bring _peace _to this planet." Optimus turned his head to stare out at the city below. "We cannot let the humans pay for our mistakes..." Turning back to them, he said, "It's been an honor serving with you all." Furling his hands into fists, he exclaimed, "Autobots… Roll out!"

…

**Colorado River  
><strong>_Hoover__ Dam_

Secretary Keller walked with a group of agents toward a line of soldiers, waiting just short of a tower cordoned off from the public.

Captain Lennox stood straighter as he saw Keller approaching. "Team _attention!_" he exclaimed. "Present arms!" They raised their hands up in a salute and waited.

"At ease," Keller told them. "Captain, Sergeant," he greeted Lennox and Epps. "Got your intel. Excellent work."

Lennox nodded. "Thank you, sir." He glanced at Epps. "What about the gunships?"

"They're being retrofitted with sabot rounds now."

Pleased, he nodded.

"If they hit us again, we'll be ready for them. But, uh, it won't do us much good if we can't get world communications back up..."

…

As Chloe and Sam were being escorted by a group of agents, they failed to see Frenzy climb out of Chloe's bag and slide down the bridge wall, flipping a few times gracelessly.

"Wait!" Chloe turned back and grabbed her bag off the ledge. She dangled it in front of an agent mockingly before joining Sam once more. "Soon as these jerks aren't looking I'm destroying their credibility… If I'm going to Gitmo, it might as well be worth it," she muttered to him.

He snorted.

Up ahead, they saw Agents Simmons waiting, his arms crossed over his chest. Doing his best to appear threatening, he wore sunglasses, black and grey fatigues, and fingerless gloves. But the expression on the two teens' faces showed they still saw him as spineless scum.

"Hey, kid," he greeted. "I think we got off to a bad start, huh?" He reached out and squeezed Sam's shoulder. "You must be hungry? You want a latte? Ho-Ho? Double venti macchiato?"

Sam's jaw ticked. He stared up into Simmons face and demanded, "Where's my _car?_"

Banachek approached then. "Son…" He looked at Simmons as if to say 'Let me try,' and then returned his attention to Sam. "I need you to listen to me very carefully…"

Sam turned to him.

"People can _die_ here… We need to _know_ everything you know. We need to know it _now_."

"Okay…" Sam nodded. "But first, I'll take my car, my parents."

Banachek looked away in frustration.

"Maybe you should write that down," he said to Simmons mockingly. "_Oh_, and you take her off the FBI's watch-list…" He glared between them before finally facing Simmons. "No Gitmo, no terrorism charges, none of that."

Simmons ground his teeth.

"_Oh_..." He smirked. "And an almond mocha with extra whip for her too..."

Simmons narrowed his eyes.

"Come with me," Banachek said. "We'll talk about your car."

Sam turned to grin at Chloe.

She clucked her tongue in faux-disappointment. "And I was just thinking of ways to Martha-Stewart up my new cell…" She smirked at Simmons as they walked past him, calling back, "Don't forget the sleeve... Don't want to burn myself, right?"

"Man's an _extortionist_…" Simmons muttered to himself.

…

Chloe frowned wonderingly as their group of four, including herself, Sam, Glen and Maggie, was merged with a troop of soldiers. She eyed them thoughtfully before moving toward them.

Sam turned to her. "Hey! What—Where—Where are you—?"

"I'll be right back," she told him, backing away.

His eyes widened. "Are you—? You're _serious?_" He shook his head. "Alien war going on and you, what? You wanna go _sight-seeing?_" He licked his lips. "Listen, Chloe, _priorities, _okay?"

She grinned at him. "Trust me, alien war is _right _up there…" She motioned behind her with her thumb. "I will be _right _back…" She stared at him searchingly. "Okay?"

He sighed, hands on his hips, and jerked his head agreeably.

With a wink, she turned on her heel and jogged off. A few seconds later, she caught up with the front-most soldier and kept pace with him, eyeing the patch on his arm curiously. "What's your rank?" she asked in greeting.

He glanced at her, brows furrowed. "Captain…" He eyed her up and down suspiciously. "Civilian?"

"Something like that," she muttered. Shaking her head dismissively, she asked, "Sam Lane, do you know him?"

His eyes widened slightly. "The General? Yeah, I know him!" He half-grinned. "Daughter or niece?"

"Niece," she said, nodding. She held a hand out. "I'm Chloe."

"Lennox," he replied, shaking her hand. He looked around carefully before turning back to her. "He's talked about you before… Besides strategy, his favorite topic of conversation are his girls…"

She smiled warmly.

"Any idea what you're doing here?" he wondered. "And if the General knows where you are?"

She laughed shortly. "Oh, I know why I'm here, and I can pretty much guarantee my uncle has no idea…" Crossing her arms over her chest, she glanced at his team. "What I'm wondering is what a group of Rangers is doing here…" Her eyes narrowed.

He hiked a brow. "How'd you—?"

"The badges you wear…" She motioned to his shoulder and shrugged. "If there's one thing my uncle likes to talk about, it's the ARMY and its many virtues…" She rolled her eyes lightly. "Growing up, he always told me that only the best of men serve their country."

"Well, I'm honored." He nodded. "But, General's niece or not, national security has my ass in a vice over this… I can't whisper a word."

Chloe nodded slowly. "No, I get it… It was a long shot, but I'd hoped you might be able to clear something up for me…" She tipped her head and stared at him. "Look, I've been piecing this together from bits of information here or there, so I'm going to take a stab in the dark…" She made sure Simmons couldn't overhead and said, "I'm guessing you were stationed in the Middle East… And you must've seen or fought something out of the ordinary…" She stared at him searchingly, but his poker face was impressive. "Something right out of a sci-fi movie…" She glanced at Maggie and Glen up ahead. "From what I've heard from _other _current wards of the state, something hacked into the government for a few top secret files… Now, I _know_ who did that, which is why Sam and I are here, what I'm wondering is… If they brought the big guns in, does that mean you guys have a way of destroying them…? And part two to that question is, do you know there's more than one faction fighting out there…?"

His eyes narrowed. "More than one… You mean there's another side?" He shook his head. "Listen, the… _enemy _I ran into out there wasn't asking for a tea party… They didn't _ask _anything; they took and they destroyed."

"I know and I get it," she agreed hurriedly. "But I'm thinking you ran into the bad faction while we, _mostly_, met the good side of things…" She shrugged. "Look, all I'm asking for is that you have an open mind here… Which is hard to do when we seem to be in the middle of Alien Armageddon, but…" She stared up at him sincerely. "We've met the good guys and they just want to help us…"

Lennox stared at her squarely. "You're sure you can trust them?"

She smirked. "I'm the General's niece, remember? Caution is my middle name…"

He chuckled under his breath. "All right, I'll take it under advisement…" His eyes traveled past her. "You might want to get back to your boyfriend, he's looking a little antsy…"

Chloe turned her head to see Sam was frowning at them.

"He's had a rough few days…" she mused. Backing up, she glanced back at Lennox. "If you see my uncle before I do, pass on a hello from me, will you?"

He saluted her.

Chloe grinned, turning around to make her way back over to Sam.

She was surprised when he slid an arm around her waist, and amused when he glared past her at Lennox before asking her, "What was that?"

Smirking, she teased, "What? I can't say hello to our country's bravest?"

He scoffed. "So you picked GQ Soldier? What, the, uh, buzzcut in the back with the full-body freckles wasn't good enough? Huh?"

Rolling her eyes, she bumped his shoulder. "Listen, before you _challenge _anybody for my hand in friendship… I was talking to our friendly neighborhood soldier for a very good reason."

"Yeah?" He scratched his chin dismissively. "And?"

"Intel," she replied simply. "I'm starting to put this crazy puzzle together…"

He nodded, licking his lips. And, apparently, putting his grudge away, said, "Fill me in…"

…

"All right, here's the situation," Simmons called out, leading the group. "You've all had direct contact with the NBEs—"

"NBEs?" Epps repeated.

He glanced back at him. "Non-Biological Extraterrestrials. Try and keep up with the acronyms."

Simmons led them through a dank, brick tunnel, where a laboratory was hidden inside the Hoover Dam. "What you're about to see is totally _classified_."

In front of them, a giant robot, with interlocking silver plates, was being doused regularly in cryoblasts, huge icicles clinging to its frame and woven in between every crevice, while scientists and technicians ran all around busily.

The group slowed in shock, staring up at the massive being, lit up with blue lights. Various steel ramps were set up for people to test every area and part of it.

"Dear God," Keller breathed. "What is this?"

As they walked toward it, Banachek explained loudly, "We _think_ when he made his approach over the North Pole, our gravitational field screwed up his telemetry… He crashed in the ice, probably a few thousand years ago. We shipped him here to this facility in 1934."

"We call him NBE-One," Simmons added.

"Sir, I don't mean to correct you on everything you _think_ you know, but…" Sam interrupted, arms crossed over his chest. "I mean, that's Megatron."

Simmons turned around, arms locked behind his back, and stared at Sam with narrowed eyes.

"He's the leader of the Decepticons."

"He's been in cryostasis since 1935," Banachek told them. "Your great-great-grandfather… made one of the _greatest _discoveries in the history of mankind."

Sam looked up at Megatron thoughtfully.

"Fact is, you're looking at the source of the modern age." Simmons walked in front of the group, looking from person to person. "The microchip, lasers, spaceflight, cars, all reverse-engineered by studying _him_." He looked back at Megatron and then walked casually away. "NBE—" He turned his head to Sam, "_One_." He shoved his face in close. "That's what _we_ call it."

Sam flashed his eyebrows and shrugged.

"And you didn't think the United States military _might_ need to know—" Keller approached Banachek, eyebrows raised, "—that you're keeping a hostile alien robot frozen in the basement?" He waved back at it.

"Until these events, we had _no_ credible threat to national security."

"Well you got one _now_."

Lennox tipped his head back to stare at Megatron fully. "So why _Earth?_" he wondered.

Sam and Chloe exchanged a look. He nodded at her. "It's the All Spark," she sighed.

"All Spark?" Keller's brows furrowed. "What is that?"

"Well, yeah, they came here looking for some sort of _cube_-looking thing." He frowned. "Anyway, mister NBE-One here, a.k.a. _Megatron_," he said distinctly at Simmons, "—that's what _they_ call him, who's pretty much the harbinger of death, wants to use the Cube to transform human technology to take over the universe." He waved his hand around for emphasis. "That's their plan."

Chloe nodded. "In a nutshell."

Lennox gaped upward, brow cocked.

"And you're sure about that?" Simmons asked, eyeing him.

"Yeah…" Sam said. Realization dawned. "You guys where it is, don't you?"

Simmons looked away. "That's classified—"

"I'm pretty sure we're past that," Chloe interrupted. "You wanted to know what we know and now you have a small part of it… It's give and take, boys. We share, you share. And-" She smiled. "I feel like we have a lot to share…" She looked at Sam, cocking her head. "Don't you?"

"_Tons_," he agreed, smirking.

Banachek looked between them and then around to the group. "Follow me," he said, turning and walking past them.

…

Simmons led the group upstairs to an observing office. "You're about to see our crown jewel," he said, moving to the corner of the window.

Sam stepped inside, eyes widening as he stared out below. He blew out a surprised breath, resting his hands on the metal railing and leaning down to get a better look at the huge cube set up in the center of the room below. It was black and covered in carved symbols he didn't recognize, some of it cracked and showing a red-fiery glow.

"Cube feels like an understatement," Chloe muttered.

Everybody crowded in behind them, getting a look for themselves.

"Carbon dating puts the Cube here around 10,000 BC," Banachek said. "The First _Seven_ didn't find it until 1913. They knew it was alien because of the matching hieroglyphics on the Cube as well as NBE-One. President Hoover had the dam built around it. Four football fields thick of concrete. A perfect way to hide its energy from being detected by any_one_ or any alien species on the outside…"

…

Out of sight, Frenzy snuck around the laboratory, keeping low to the ground.

He looked up, staring at the All Spark with reverent blue eyes.

As he got closer, a blue spark came off of the cube and connected with him, regenerating his old, much larger and capable body.

In Cybertronian, he contacted his superior. "_All Spark located."_

At an US Airbase, lying in wait as an F-22 Raptor, Starscream heard him and quickly sent out a signal to the rest. "_This is Starscream: All Deceptions, mobilize_."

The same black Police vehicle that had intercepted Sam and fought with Bumblebee, replied, "_Barricade en-route."_

In a military depot, a tank suddenly rolled forward, plowing through a chain link fence. "_Devastator reporting..."_

A Buffalo armored _vehicle suddenly revved to life in the motor pool of a military base. "__Bonecrusher rolling..."_

"_Blackout incoming_…" An MH-53 Pave Low helicopter soared through the sky. "_All hail Megatron!_"

…

**Colorado River**

_Hoover__ Dam_

"Wait, back up," Maggie said, brows furrowed. "You— You said the dam hides the Cube's energy. What_ kind_ exactly?"

"Good question," Banachek said.

They were taken to a steel room, a glass and metal box in the center, attached to various chords and two giant fuses.

"Please step inside," Banachek told them. As they filled the room, a technician stepped out and closed the door. "They have to lock us in…"

Glen looked up at a wall, where claw marks were imbedded deep into the steel. "Oh, wow…"

Brow knotted, Epps looked it up and down. "Freddy Krueger done been up in here or something?"

"Oh, no, man," Glen said excitably. "Freddy Krueger have four blades, man." He waved to his hand. "That's only three. That's Wolverine!" He motioned scratching with his hand. "_Hrr!_" He laughed. "Right? That's _Wolverine!"_

"That's very funny," Simmons said, straight-faced. He nodded.

Glen quieted down, looking at him uncomfortably.

"Anybody have any mechanical devices? BlackBerry? Key alarm? Cell phone?" Simmons asked.

"I got a phone," Glen offered unenthusiastically, tossing it over.

Catching it, Simmons moved toward the box. He opened it and placed it inside. "Ooh… Nokias are _real_ nasty… You've got to respect the Japanese. They know the way of the samurai." He slammed the door shot and locked it.

Maggie frowned. "Nokia's from Finland…"

"Yes, but he's, you know..." He pressed a finger to his lips to shush her, but added, "a little strange. He's a little strange."

Everybody lowered their safety glasses as Simmons turned the machine on. Inside, a small laser lowered, aiming at the phone.

"We're able to take the Cube radiation…" Simmons flipped a few switches, "and funnel it into that box."

A blue electric light rippled over the Cube outside the room, while inside, a blue laser blasted the phone.

It shook, making an electronic chattering noise, before suddenly, two legs with three spider-like prongs appeared.

Glen yelped, jumping back.

It backed up before suddenly taking a running jump at one side of the box.

Chloe's eyed widened as she took it in.

Turning around, the Nokia robot cried out, "Hiii-yah!" before running at another side. It stumbled backwards and fell onto its back.

"Mean little sucker, huh?" Simmons asked, circling the room.

"That thing is _freaky!_" Maggie exclaimed.

He smirked. "Kind of like the itty-bitty Energizer Bunny from hell, huh?"

Chattering at them, the robot suddenly produced a small machine gun between his legs and began shooting all around him. He shot off a missile at the door before returning to his machine gun. He ran suddenly at one window, directly in front of Maggie, but the force had him back stumbling backward onto his back, his gun still firing.

Simmons sighed. "Ugh… He's breaking the box."

He squeezed a trigger and a flash filled the box, killing the Nokia-bot instantly.

Charred and black, it lay sparking on its back.

Keller and Maggie raised their glasses to gape at the remains.

…

Starscream cut through the sky above the Hoover Dam, swooping under a bridge before twisting upwards and turning, mid-air, into his Decepticon form, landing on the bridge so hard, chunks of it crumbled and fell off.

As agents raced away for cover, he lifted an arm and shot off four missiles at the hydroelectric power plant attached to the dam.

The facility groaned and shook on impact.

…

The lights flashed inside the room, drawing the group's attention.

"Gentlemen, they know the Cube is here," Keller informed them.

Banachek hit a comm. to the outside. "Banachek. What's going on?

An S-7 tech replied in a harried voice, "Well, the NBE-One hangar has lost power—"

"What!" he exclaimed, turning to look wide-eyed at the others.

"—and the backup generator is just not gonna cut it."

Lennox approached. "Do you have an arms room?" he demanded.

…

Knocking out a few agents, Frenzy typed away at a computer.

_'CRYO FAILURE,' _it flashed when he was done.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!" He chuckled. "Megatron! Megatron! Megatron!"

…

Rushing out of the room, Banachek yelled, "Get everyone to the NBE-One chamber now!"

The facility workers were racing around in different directions, some looking out for themselves, others following directions.

The group followed behind Keller.

"They're popping our generators!" Banachek informed the Secretary.

…

The Autobots were en-route to the Hoover Dam, Optimus at the front.

…

Frenzy turned around to another screen that had a full body shot of Megatron.

His fingers moved rapidly over the keys.

A bar on the side began to rise and the temperature beneath it rose quickly.

"Oh! Megatron melting!"

…

Walking between Megatron's legs, a scientist waved a meter over it.

The announcer's voice rang out, "We're losing pressure! The cryogenic system is failing! We're losing NBE-One!"

The ice clinging to Megatron began to crack.

…

In the arm's room, Lennox and his team were loading up, as well as various S-7 agents.

"Forty millimeter sabot rounds on that table!" Simmons yelled.

"That's good. Get all the ammo you got. Everything you can carry. Bring it," Lennox told his team.

Chloe rounded to a shelf full of grenades and loaded up her purse.

Sam rolled his eyes at her. "Are you serious?"

"What?" she scoffed. "You think this is the first time I've handled one of these?" She shook it at him. "This is my uncle's stocking stuffer, okay?"

Shaking his head, Sam turned around and stalked toward Simmons.

"You got to take me to my car," he told him.

Simmons ignored him, loading his gun instead.

"You have to take me to my car! He's gonna know what to do with the Cube."

"Your car?" He shook his head. "It's confiscated."

"Then unconfiscate it."

Chloe shook her head, looking over at a frowning Lennox.

"We do not know what will happen if we let it near this thing!" he barked.

"_You_ don't know—"

"Maybe you know—" He waved a bullet at him obligingly, "—but I don't know."

"You just wanna sit here and wait and see what happens?" he asked, nodding, his eyes wide.

"I have people's lives at stake here, young man."

Grabbing him by his shoulder, Lennox yanked Simmons back and shoved him against an armored car. "Take him to his car!" he ordered.

Suddenly, the S-7 agents pulled out their guns and turned them on Lennox.

Lennox raised his own gun. "Drop it!"

His team was quick to knock out the other agents, Epps elbowing one in the face, while another used the butt of a rifle to disable an agent.

Chloe stepped in front of Sam, gun in hand.

"What are you doing?" he whisper-shouted.

"If this goes south, we need a back-up plan…" she said back, never taking her eyes of the others. "Simmons isn't exactly on our team and we're getting Bumblebee back, Sam…" She flicked the safety off. "One way or another…"

"Do you even know—?"

She raised a brow at him.

"Okay, okay…" He shrugged. "Dumb question, I get it, hold your fire…"

She snorted lightly.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Banachek said, holding his hands up defensively as he looked around at the nervous group.

"Drop your weapon, soldier," Simmons said, staring up at the soldier pinning him down. "There's an alien war going on and you're gonna shoot me?"

Panting, Lennox turned his eyes back to the agent. "You know, we didn't ask to be here…"

"You don't even know this kid and you wanna trust him and his car?" he demanded.

"The girl says he's a good alien…" He waved his gun slightly. "Haven't met one so far, but I'm willing to bet she's got it right…"

Simmons' eyes narrowed. "I'm ordering you under S-7 executive jurisdiction—"

"S-7 don't exist!" Epps interrupted, brows furrowed.

"Right." Lennox nodded with a grim smile. "And we don't take orders from people that don't exist."

"I'm gonna count to five," Simmons tried.

Lennox pressed the barrel of his gun to Simmons' chest. "Well, I'm gonna count to three." Breathing hard, a dribble of sweat sliding down his face, he stared seriously at Simmons. "Hm?"

"Simmons?" Keller said.

His eyes cut to the Secretary. "Yes, sir?"

"I'd do what he says…" His eyebrows hiked as he stared at him meaningfully. "Losing's really not an option for these guys."

Simmons looked up at Lennox and then back at Keller, back and forth, before finally nodding slowly. "All right. Okay." He stared up at him dubiously. "Hey… You want to lay the fate of the world on the kid's Camaro…? That's cool."

Lennox stepped back, lowering his gun. "Let's go."

Sam's eyes darted back to Chloe. "You gonna put that away now, Killer?"

She grinned at him before turning the safety back on and tucking it in her jeans. "Just in case…"

Turning, she moved to follow after the others, just behind her Sam shook his head, smiling to himself.

…

Keller and Simmons led the group into the holding lab where Bumblebee was whining and moaning, struggling against the cryoblasts being shot at him.

Sam shoved forward, pushing a gun down. "No, no! Stop! You got to stop!" he cried. "Stop! Stop! Stop!"

"No, no, stop, stop, stop," Banachek said, holding his hands up.

"You gotta let him go! _Let him go!_" Sam told the engineers.

The Rangers looked on uncertainly.

"You're sure about this?" Lennox asked Chloe.

She nodded. "One hundred percent," she told him, before walking forward to join Sam.

"You okay?" Sam asked, panting as he stared up at Bumblebee.

He looked back at him, blue eyes flashing.

"They didn't hurt you, right?" he asked, waving an arm.

Bumblebee closed his face-cover and turned his eyes every which way, staring at the humans suspiciously.

Keller, Maggie and Glen all backed up, wide-eyed and gaping.

Bumblebee raised a cannon arm and swiveled it around to keep them back.

"Listen to me," Sam said, holding up a hand. "The Cube is here and the Decepticons are coming…"

Bumblebee shoved up to a seated position, but still moved his cannon around uncertainly.

"No, no, don't worry about them. They're okay." He motioned back to them. "Right? They're not gonna hurt you."

He climbed off the examination table, shoving his arm at them.

"Just back up a little bit," Sam said to the ground, stepping back a little himself. "He's friendly. He's fine." He looked back up at Bumblebee. "Okay, come on... Put the guns down. They're not gonna hurt you."

"Here, come with me." Sam nodded. "I'm gonna take you to the All Spark…"

…

Bumblebee stared up at the Cube, reaching out to it carefully. At the corner, he placed a hand beneath either side.

"Ah, okay, here we go," Epps said, shuffling his feet. "He doing something. He doing something."

He twisted a corner, before a blue energy rippled over the All Spark. Separating into smaller cubes, it began to reformat, folding into itself and becoming smaller and smaller until finally it was one, small cube.

Watching the magnificent sight, the group stared on with wide, awed eyes.

"Talk about a super Rubik's cube," Chloe muttered, shaking her head.

Holding it in the palm of his hand, zapped once or twice by its pulsing energy, Bumblebee turned to them, and using his radio, said, "_Message from Starfleet, Captain. Let's get to it!_"

"He's right." Lennox waved toward him. "We stay here, we're screwed with Megatron in the other hangar… Mission City is twenty-two miles away." He pointed. "We're gonna sneak that Cube out of here and we're gonna hide it somewhere in the city."

"Good!" Keller said enthusiastically. "Right."

"But we _cannot _make a stand without the Air Force…"

Turning to Simmons, Keller waved his hands beseechingly, saying, "This place must have some kind of radio link!"

"Yes!"

"Shortwave, CB!"

Simmons circled him agreeably. "Right! Yes!"

Lennox shook his head. "Sir, you got to figure out some way to get word out to them." He turned to his team. "Let's move!"

"In the alien archive, sir!" Simmons exclaimed, holding his hands up.

"The alien archive—"

"There's an _old _army radio console..."

"Will it work?"

He shrugged his shoulders up high. "I don't know— Anything's possible!" He motioned back to where the Cube once was. "Did you see that?" He used his hands to show it changing from large to small. "Poof!"

…

Chloe stared up at Bumblebee, who took a knee in front of the two teenagers.

"_Well howdy there, little ones_—" he said, using an audio clip from some old Western movie. He looked between them. "_Are you okay?_"

She smiled brightly. "Better now…" She stared searchingly at him and reached out to place a hand on his arm. "Are _you?_"

"_It will take a lot more than that— To bring me down, Sarge._" He nodded at her, lifting a hand as if to tip his invisible hat in her direction.

"Next time…" She raised a brow at him. "Maybe you'll take my advice and run for cover, huh?"

Sam snorted. "Don't listen to her… She was a mess without you…" He half-grinned. "She was desperate. Out of her mind. Just—" He shook his head. "Bawling her eyes out, total mess…"

Rolling her eyes, Chloe shoved his shoulder. "Shut up."

"_Well, I care about you too, see? Ain't nothin' I'd take back, neither._" He nodded at her and turned to Sam. "_Captain, my Captain— What I wouldn't do for you!_"

Sam smiled slowly, ducking his head. "I know, buddy…"

Chloe turned around, noticing the soldier jogging in their direction. "Looks like we're on the move…"

Standing, Bumblebee transformed into the Camaro, revving his engine at them.

"All right, Sam, Chloe, get in the car!" Lennox told them.

Listening, they climbed inside.

Turning the corner, Lennox paused, walking backwards. "Mister Secretary! Get our birds in the air. When we get to the city, we're gonna find a radio, and I'll have Epps vector them in, okay?"

"Affirmative!" Keller called back.

…

Over the P.A. system, an announcer said, "Warning! NBE One cryo-tainment failing."

Inside Megatron's laboratory, technicians and scientists were racing around, trying to stop the giant robot from defrosting.

"Check that backup system!"

"The cryo's failing! You got to bump up the cryo! The cryo's failing!"

"Come on!" Giving up, one raced away, dropping his writing board in the process. "Get out of here!"

…

"Set a perimeter around the yellow vehicle!" Lennox told his team.

…

"This way, this way, this way!" Simmons yelled, leading the secretary out of the Cube's lab.

…

Suddenly, Megatron's red eyes flashed to life and he rolled his head back. He threw off chains and wires holding him in place. Twisting and turning his body all around, he took a few steps and released himself of what was left of the ice clinging to his exoskeleton. "I am… _Megatron!_"

He pulled a swinging mace-like weapon from his arm and swung it around, destroying the metal ramps that had once lead to him. Men fell from their stations, crashing on the cement below. Technicians hit the ground or ran in fear as Megatron began grabbing and throwing everything in sight. Crushing whatever he touched in his strong, metal hands. He tore out a whole power system, fire flashing, tossing and kicking whatever was in his path.

Technicians circled Megatron, trying to block the exit, raising their cryoblast guns and doing their best to slow him down.

He kicked past them before transforming into a Cybertronian jet and blasting through the tunnel and away from his century-long prison. Flying low across the water, he swerved upwards at the Dam and twisted mid-air, turning back into his robot-form and landing heavily on the bridge.

Above him, an F-22 Raptor landed on a ledge. "I live to serve you, Lord Megatron," he hissed.

"Where is the Cube?" Megatron demanded, curling his fingers into fists viciously.

He pointed behind him. "The humans have taken it…"

He growled deeply. "You fail me yet again, Starscream," he said. Turning toward him, he yelled, "_Get them!_"

…

Outside, Lennox's team had climbed into armored cars and were retreating from Hoover Dam, just behind the black and yellow Camaro leading them toward Mission City.

Inside Bumblebee, Sam anxiously looked out the window and then behind him. "Maybe we should put the seat belt on the Cube."

Chloe flashed a smile at him. "Because if Megatron or the others show up, a _seatbelt _is going to be the driving force behind keeping it safe?"

"Point taken, I'm getting nervous." He nodded. "I just don't want it to-to fall over or something, y'know? We don't know what it's going to do!" His eyes widened wildly. "All I'm saying is a seatbelt's just one more precaution, right? Can't have too many of those! Huh?"

Holding her hands up, she rolled onto her knees and reached into the back. "You want me to tuck it in and sing it a lullaby too?"

"Yeah, sure, pick on the guy with the whole world on his shoulders. Mm-hm, that'll help," he muttered, knee bouncing in agitation.

She rolled her eyes. "Sam…"

"No, no… Damage is done… I'm overreacting; you've made your point…" He threw his hands up. "I mean I—I'm just doing my best here, okay? 'Cause I might have the Queen of Weird on my side, but this _is _my first rodeo and it's _huge!_ It—It's _massive_, y'know? And I just—I can't screw this up! I _can't_—"

"Sam!" she interrupted, grabbing his hands and lowering them. She stared at him searchingly. "You're _not _gonna screw this up…"

He licked his lips, shaking his head. "How do you know?"

"I know _you_…" She laughed under her breath. "You don't give up…" Her eyebrows wrinkled. "You promised me we'd get Bumblebee back and we did… So just promise me we'll help save the world and I will never doubt that…"

He swallowed thickly, shifting in his seat to face her better. "What if I can't? What if—What if I can't promise you that? What if I can't promise we'll make even make it to Mission City? What then?" He shook his head frantically. "We've got aliens on our asses and a—a frickin' _cube _that's supposed to save us! What—What _logic _is in any of that?" He tugged at his hair. "How can you just blindly believe that I'll—"

She covered his mouth with her hand. "Listen to me…" She raised a brow. "Do you _trust _me?"

He nodded slowly.

"Okay. Well, I trust you and Bumblebee and I know… I just, I _know _that we'll make it through this… _Okay?_"

He stared at her a long moment, eyes wide and unblinking. But finally, he nodded, letting his eyes flutter shut a second.

She drew her hand back. "Good." Sitting back in her seat, she looked out at the road and nodded. "Let's kick some evil alien ass then…"

Bumblebee sped up in reply.

…

Inside the Hoover Dam, Secretary Keller, Agent Simmons, Glen and Maggie all rushed into the alien archives room.

The door locked behind them, a metal beam falling into place for extra security.

"Over here, sir!" Keller grabbed a rolling chair and dropped into it, sitting in front of an old CB station, covered in cobwebs and dust. "Give me a minute. Give me a minute…" He flicked a switch and plugged in a couple chords, muttering to himself under his breath.

Keller watched over his shoulder, brows furrowed.

Simmons fiddled with a few dials and waited. Finally, a faint buzzing met his ears. "We're hot! We're live!"

"Where are the mics?" Glen wondered.

He paused, face falling, eyes widening. "Mics?"

Glen held his arms out and shook them meaningfully. "This doesn't work without mics, Simmons!" He started searching beneath the desk and on the floor.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO!" Simmons hollered.

"Let's find them," Keller suggested.

Everybody spread out and began searching the room, moving papers and checking drawers.

"Kid, get in the chair!" Simmons said, directing Glen into where he once was. "Just get in the chair, all right?" He patted his back.

Glen fiddled with dials, his brows furrowed. "How do we get the signal out?" He panicked. "How do we call the _Air Force?_"

Maggie paused next to an old computer. "Glen?" She snapped her fingers for his attention.

"Huh?"

She tapped the monitor. "Can you hotwire this computer to transmit a tone _through _the radio?"

He frowned. "What good is that?"

"Morse code!" she exclaimed, shaking her head. She waved her hands around in frustration. "You can use this to transmit it through that!"

"Okay, I'll do it!" He shoved out of his chair and ran over to her. Moving her out of the way, he reached for the monitor. "Turn it around. Okay, let's see. Uh—" He licked his lips, looking around. "Si-Simmons! I need a screwdriver!"

…

Up ahead on the road, Sam spotted a succession of four familiar vehicles.

The red and blue semi-trunk honked at him in recognition.

"There's Optimus," he said in relief.

Chloe grinned. "See?"

He smiled back at her.

As soon as they passed them, Optimus hit his brakes and turned a sharp U-ey to follow in behind the armored cars, with Jazz, Ratchet and Ironhide at his back.

…

Having carried the monitor over to the CB radio, the group huddled around Glen as he worked.

"Almost done…"

Suddenly, the door was pushed, straining against the locks.

"What the hell was that?" Simmons wondered.

It pressed forward again and he shouted, "Barricade the door!"

Maggie, Simmons and Keller ran forward to push it closed, grunting at the pressure as the robot on the other side began shoving at it more deliberately.

Separating, they each started pushing tables and desks in an effort to keep the door closed.

"Six, five, four, six, three," Glen said, tapping away at his keyboard.

Keller smashed a glass case holding a couple shotguns inside and took them out. He then found ammo and carried them over to Maggie and Simmons who were adding chairs to the pile barricading the door.

"Here! Put some rounds in!" he said, handing one to Maggie.

Panting, she knelt down and started loading it.

Keller raised the gun to his shoulder and took a shot through the opening in the door.

"Master search..." Glen said. The computer beeped and then filled with pale writing. "I- I got it!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening. He turned to look at them and held an arm out. "We're transmitting!"

"Send exactly what I say!" Keller told him, running toward him.

"Get out of the way! Get out of the way!" Simmons growled. He slid a fire-gun through the crack in the door and pulled the trigger, sending spitting flames at Frenzy on the other side. "Burn, you little sucker! _Burn!_"

Falling back and skittering out of the way, Frenzy shouted angrily at him.

"This is Defense Secretary Keller," John said to Glen, shaking a hand at him.

"Uh-huh?"

"Get me NORTHCOM commander."

Frenzy suddenly shot a metal disc through the door that barely missed Glen.

"Whoa!" Simmons yelled.

Holding his hands up and close to himself, Glen screeched, "What was _that?_"

Keller waved him back on task. "Authenticate emergency action. Blackbird 1195—"

…

**Just Outside of Mission City**

On a busy highway, Bonecrusher and Blackout were weaving across the road, knocking other, unsuspecting drivers out of the way.

Bonecrusher managed to bump into the rear-end of a mini-van, sending it into a spin before it skidded into the cement divide.

He flipped another vehicle off the road and right over top of him, to land on its roof behind him in a crushed mess.

Spotting them, Sam shook his head, seeing the police car coming up fast, its lights flashing. "No, no, no, no, no…"

Chloe looked over at him before turning onto her knees and staring out the back window.

"It's the same cop!" he told her.

"_What?_"

"The—The _cop! _Who chased us! The _cop_, Chloe!"

Swallowing tightly, she stared on with furrowed brows, and summed it up simply, "_Shit_."

[**Next**: Part VIII.]


	8. Part VIII

**Title**: Transformers: Heroic Hearts  
><strong>Category<strong>: Smallville/Transformers  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Humor/Action/Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Chloe Sullivan/Sam Witwicky  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Giant spoilers, violence, strong language, sexuality  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Whole chunks of the movie Transformers (2007) were rewritten here for coherence, so any of those who haven't seen the movies would be able to understand. I take no credit for any parts recognizable to the brand or the movies themselves.  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 7,227  
><strong>Overall Status<strong>: Complete  
><strong>Summary<strong>: (AU) All Sam wanted was a car and the girl of his dreams. He gets both; only neither are who or what he expected.

**_Transformers: Heroic Hearts_**  
>-Novel-<p>

**VIII.**

**Just Outside of Mission City**

On a busy highway, Bonecrusher and Blackout were weaving across the road, knocking other, unsuspecting drivers out of the way.

Bonecrusher managed to bump into the rear-end of a mini-van, sending it into a tailspin before it skidded into the cement divide.

He flipped another vehicle off the road and right over top of him, to land on its roof behind him in a crushed mess of curling smoke and battered steel.

Spotting them, Sam shook his head, seeing the police car coming up fast, its lights flashing. "No, no, no, no, no…"

Chloe looked over at him before turning onto her knees and staring out the back window.

"It's the same cop!" he told her.

"_What?_"

"The—The _cop! _Who chased us! The _cop_, Chloe!"

Swallowing tightly, she stared on with furrowed brows, and summed it up simply, "_Shit_."

"Yeah," he snorted, staring out at the car coming up on them quick. "Block them, block them, block them."

Optimus suddenly hit his brakes, while down the road Bonecrusher transformed into his robot body.

"What's this? Raaaaargh!" he growled, taking a knee where a tire sat and rolling across the road, arms up and claw-like hands curling.

Optimus kicked up chunks of cement as he changed too, leaping across the divide and racing toward Bonecrusher.

Chloe stared on with wide-eyes, glancing briefly at Sam. "It's like Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots in 3D…"

As if he were merely rollerblading, Bonecrusher advanced, pumping his arms at his sides, before finally swerving and driving right through the center of a bus. In a fiery mess, the two useless parts rolled out of his way while he leapt forward and tackled Optimus right off the side of the overpass and onto a connecting street below. Chunks of cement and debris rained down around them. A silver SUV just barely stopped short of them, the mother driving staring on in slack-jawed shock as the two robots wrestled, with Bonecrusher landing a sucker-punch. As they stood, Optimus drew an arm far back and upper-cut Bonecrusher so hard in the throat that one of his eyes dislodged from its socket.

While Bonecrusher landed out of sight, Optimus raced after him.

The young boy in the passenger seat of the SUV exclaimed, "Cool, mom!"

His mother was quick to hug him to her chest, panting in desperate fear and confusion.

On ground level, Optimus and Bonecrusher were duking it out.

Screaming incoherently, Bonecrusher swung his tail at Optimus, who used a pillar to block its reach and drew his sword from his arm.

As he swung around to attack, Optimus blocked a punch, swung one himself and then, grabbing Bonecrusher in a headlock. Finally, he drove his sword up into the Decepticon's throat and twisted it.

Sparking and snapping, Bonecrusher's body fell to the ground in a useless heap.

Optimus kicked his decapitated head as he walked a few steps away, retracting his sword.

…

**Colorado River  
><strong>_Hoover__ Dam_

Above, a chittering noise could be heard in the vents.

"This is _so _not good," Simmons muttered, pumping his gun and taking a shot.

Keller did the same.

Frenzy suddenly burst through the vent bottom and raced along support beams above.

Maggie screamed, ducking low.

Frenzy dropped down, crashing through a glass case.

Keller and Simmons took a few shots at him before taking cover behind a desk.

Frenzy skittered to a cement pillar and took refuge there, arming his hands into guns.

Maggie spotted him and then ducked once more. "He's behind the pillar!" she told Keller.

Frenzy turned around and started shooting at them, ducking when return fire nearly hit him. Guns smoking, he waved them around in frantic impatience before finally turning to the other side of the pillar and taking another shot at them.

Keller stood and shot and when he ducked, Simmons took his place so they each had time to reload.

"Shoot that motherfu—" Glen exclaimed.

Frenzy threw two silver, razor sharp discs at them.

"—_whoa!_"

"Maggie, cover fire!"

Simmons tossed her his gun

The computer screen above them burst as a bullet hit it.

"Ah!" Glen screeched, ducking his head and hunching his shoulders. Debris and glass fell toward him, but he continued typing away at his computer. Scrubbing dust off the monitor, he exclaimed, "It's the Air Force! They're responding!"

Face red with exertion and dotted with sweat, Keller snuck up on Frenzy, his teeth clenched and his brow furrowed. Pumping his gun, he got a good shot in, hitting him in the side of the head.

Grunting, Frenzy shook it off and flipped head over feet toward the pillar once more, successfully avoiding a second shot Keller sent his way.

But as he tried to reach around to shoot, Keller advanced with a third shot and he was forced back into his hiding place.

Simmons came in on the other side, using a trolley covered in junk for cover as he shot at Frenzy with a fire-thrower. "Sucker, burn!"

"Yaah!" Frenzy shot off another disc.

Keller leaning back out of the way as it whizzed past his face. "Whoah!"

"Aaah!" Maggie cried, ducking.

It swung back around and Frenzy turned just in time to see it was headed for him. It sliced through his face, leaving only one, blinking blue eye. "Oh, shit!" he said, before collapsing on the ground.

"Yes!" Glen yelled. "They're sending F-22's to the city!"

…

**Mission**** City**

Outside of Rhonda's Pawn and Loan Center, Lennox's team were set up, waiting.

Lennox raced in between armored cars. "Come on, let's go! Mount up!" He handed a handful of radios to Epps. "Here, I got shortwave radios."

Mouth slack, Epps stared down at them. "Wait. What— What am I supposed to do with _these?_"

Lennox climbed into the driver's seat next to him. "Well, _use_ them! It's all we got!"

"This is like RadioShack _dinosaur_ radios or something, man," he complained.

The Autobots joined up with them from behind.

"I'm only gonna get 20 or 30 miles out of these things."

They drove onto a main street, weaving between cars.

"Are there any aircraft orbiting the city?" Epps asked into the radio.

He received no reply, but above a black jet whizzed past.

"F-22 at twelve o'clock," Lennox said. He glanced from the road to Epps. "All right, I want planes for air cover and get Black Hawks on station to extract that Cube. You got it?"

They came to a screeching halt, cars all bunched up together, blocking the road.

Everybody climbed out and looking up to where Lennox was pointing in the sky.

"Air Force has arrived!" Lennox shouted. "Pop smoke!"

"Raptor, Raptor, do you copy?" Epps asked into the radio.

They watched as the jet circled back and flew overhead.

Chloe covered her eyes from the sun with her hand and watched with furrowed brows. She and Sam stood close to Bumblebee's trunk. "Is it just me, or has the Air Force budget been hacked to pieces?" She raised a cynical brow. "Alien war and they send _one _jet for back up?"

Sam shook his head, looking back at her. "Maybe he's just checking the area and the rest'll follow…" He shrugged.

"Maybe," she muttered.

"We have you visual," Epps radioed. "Green smoke is the mark. Provide air cover and vector Black Hawks for extraction."

Behind the cars, dark green smoke curled up into the air.

Ironhide suddenly transformed, yelling, "It's _Starscream!_"

Chloe sighed, eyes falling closed. "Not one break," she muttered. The tremble at her back warned her to move and as she stood back, Bumblebee rose up into his robot form.

Clouds of thick green smoke began crawling along the pavement at their feet.

Epps pleaded, "Please tell me you copy…"

The rest of the Autobots joined them and began to change as confused civilians began running away fearfully.

"Back up! Take cover!" Ironhide ordered, moving into the middle of a four-way light. He pointed. "Bumblebee!"

Together, they ran toward a large toy truck and lifted it up.

"No, no, no!" Lennox exclaimed. "_Move!_"

"Back up! Back up!" Ironhide yelled, waving at them.

"Retreat!" a soldier yelled, jumping out of the back of a truck. "Fall back!"

The Rangers all scrambled for a place to hide, jumping out of trucks and hurrying toward the surrounding buildings.

"Incoming!" Ironhide yelled.

A missile hit just short of the truck, exploding asphalt beneath it, while a second was a direct hit, sending bursts of fire and cement flying. The force threw Bumblebee back.

Lennox was forced to the ground by the blast. He lifted his head, momentarily lost, blinking against the dirt that fell in his eyes.

Chloe lay face down on the cement, dazed, her brows furrowed. She coughed, dust kicking up beneath her, and pressed her hands down to push herself up.

"Chloe?" Sam reached for her, grabbing her shoulder. "_Chloe?_"

She shook her head. "'m okay…" She groaned, her body aching as she pulled a leg up beneath her to kneel on. Turning her head to look at him, she searched his face. His cheek was cut and dirt clung to his skin, but he seemed to have all of his limbs, so that was a plus.

Standing, carefully and shakily, Chloe gripped the shoulders of his shirt tightly. "Are your ears ringing?" she asked.

He laughed shortly. "My whole _head _is ringing…"

She smiled faintly. "Something we can look back on in fifty years, right?"

"Yeah…" He nodded. "Yeah."

"Anybody hurt?" Ranger Burke yelled. "Everyone okay?"

"Guess that depends on you definition," Chloe muttered, but released Sam's shirt to stand on her own.

Sam, however, didn't let go, instead holding her hips like he thought she was going to collapse.

"I'm okay," she assured, raising a brow.

"Your hands…" He grabbed them, turning them over to check the bandages. "They hurt?"

She shrugged. "No worse than before…" Truth be told, they stung. A lot. But then, so did about 75 percent of her body, since the blast still seemed to be vibrating in her bones.

"Clear the area!" a soldier yelled behind them.

Chloe turned her head, squinting through the dust cloud around them.

An electronic whir drew their attention then and Bumblebee crawled toward them on his elbows, hands grasping desperately at the ground.

"Oh God… Bumblebee!" Sam hurried toward him. "No. Your legs! Your legs…"

Chloe swallowed tightly, approaching slowly.

"Here." Sam moved backwards, waving at a car to move out of his way. "Here, back, back, back, back!" Bumblebee crawled toward him. "You all right?"

He whined painfully.

"Please get up. Bumblebee?" he begged. Panting, eyes burning with tears, he shook his head. "Get up!" Turning his head, he yelled, "_Ratchet!_"

On the other side of the chaos, taking cover against a pile of upturned asphalt, Lennox slapped Epps shoulder. "What the hell was that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What do you mean, what am I talking about?" he yelled, face screwed up angrily. He threw his had back meaningfully. "They shot at us!"

"F-22 pilots would never fly below buildings. _That_'s alien. _That_ ain't friendly!" Epps bit back.

Epps' radio suddenly buzzed to life; he pressed it to his ear. "_Army Black Hawk inbound to your location. Over_."

"Alpha two seven three degrees, ten miles. November Victor, one point two clicks north..."

Ignoring the screaming people all around her and the cars that burst with small explosions down the road, Chloe moved in close to Bumblebee, placing a hand on his head. "It's okay… We'll get you fixed," she promised. She bent down so she was eye-level with him. "Right, Sam?"

"Yeah… Yeah, we will…" He nodded, crossing to kneel with her. "Who even needs legs, right? They-They-They get in the _way!_ They're _useless!_"

Bumblebee looked between them, metal eyebrows flashing.

"It's true!" She tried to smile. "I was _just _telling Sam what a pain legs are…"

"Yeah," he lied, swiping at his face. "She was." Pressing his fingers into his eyes, Sam shook his head. "Listen, you gotta get up though… Okay? You're okay…" He nodded. "You're okay…"

Bumblebee tried to crawl forward once more, with Chloe and Sam moving with him.

"Come on!" Sam encouraged, bending low to stare him in the eye.

Groaning in pain, he dropped his head in sorrowful defeat.

Sam closed his eyes against the tears.

"It's okay," Chloe murmured, pressing her hand to the crown of Bumblebee's head. "You were _amazing _out there…"

An echoing boom had them flinching then and they turned to see a tank was approaching, shooting rapidly at where Lennox and Epps were hiding.

Mercilessly, Devastator drove over whatever cars were in his way. Civilians screamed, running for cover, leaving their vehicles and searching for safety.

Ratchet and Jazz drove forward to meet him.

"Move out!" Lennox yelled, clapping Epps on the back. "Let's go!"

The armored cars hurried out to meet the new threat, while Sam and Chloe stared on, petrified.

Sam finally sat down on a pile of rubble and stared at Bumblebee, who crawled toward him painfully. "I'm not gonna leave you," he promised.

Chloe stood back, watching them. Finally, she rolled up her sleeves and circled around to Bumblebee's legs. "Just do me a favor and don't kick, all right?"

Bumblebee whined electronically and looked back, blinking at her in confusion.

"Superior or not, I've taken apart and put together so many computers in my time, this should be a piece of cake…" She knelt down. "I can't regenerate your legs… I don't even know if _you _can do that… But I can close the fuses, all right? Maybe then they won't hurt…" She stared at him searchingly. "If you trust me?"

He nodded, a buzzing noise escaping him.

She smiled. With a wink, she turned to his legs and stared on with a furrowed brow. "Here goes nothing…"

Chloe reached for the many, multi-colored wires, sparking here or there, and prayed she wasn't about to electrocute herself.

…

Speeding down the street toward Devastator, Ironhide dodged a car, wheels squealing. Two shots flew past him before he was able to transform from his truck-state. Kicking up off the ground, he sailed past two missiles. Before he could land headfirst, he used his arm cannons to shoot him up higher, somersaulting only to land just a few feet from a terrified and screaming woman in the middle of the street. Flipping over her too, he outmaneuvered a second set of missiles and continued on toward the enemy-tank.

Down a side street, Jazz was taking advantage of Devastator's blindspot, transforming and leaping on top of the tank. He grabbed the cannon and turned it in the other direction as it shot off another missile. "Come on, Decepticon punk!"

Growling, Devastator readjusted to his robot body, quite a bit larger than Jazz, who was easily standing atop his head, where he kicked a gun free of Devastator's shoulder.

Before he could do much more damage, the Decepticon ripped the Autobot off of him and tossed him across the road, to crash painfully into the side of a brick building.

Ironhide appeared as reinforcements, flipping over a set of missiles and shooting his own back at the enemy, while Jazz rejoined the fight and together they disoriented the large Decepticon by shooting at him rapidly from every angle.

Flipping through the air, Ratchet used his buzzsaw to slice off Devastator's arm in an array of sparks and burning metal.

To the right of him, Lennox and his team had rallied to help.

"Concentrate your fire!"

Together with Ratchet, they fired at him continuously until Devastator roared, flipping head over feet as he fell to the ground in a sparking heap.

…

Dusting off her hands, Chloe stood. "How's that, Stubby?"

Bumblebee waved what was left of his legs before turning over on his back

"_I don't feel a thing, Doc... Not one little thing_."

"Good." She circled back around and sat down next to Sam, resting her arms on her knees. She wondered how insane it was that she felt so disturbingly calm while chaos was all around them; people were racing in every direction, crying in fear, shocked and confused by what was happening. And she couldn't blame them. She imagined if she didn't have any history of the weird and bizarre behind her, this would straight out scare the living hell out of her. And even _with _her background, she had to say this took the cake. But there was a time to be scared and a time to put fear out of her mind. She couldn't say for sure what would happen or who would win, but she did know she was where she was meant to be. Sitting with an alien car and her best friend. The chances of it getting any better than that were pretty slim.

Bumblebee looked between them. He lifted the Cube up in front of them meaningfully. Dropping it in Sam's hands, he stared at him seriously.

Sam looked down at the All Spark, his brows furrowed. "We have to hide it," he said. He looked at Chloe searchingly. "It's all they want and they'll keep coming until they find it…"

She frowned. "This is my first time in Mission City; I wouldn't even know where to start…"

He sighed, shaking his head. "We have to find somewhere…"

"Even if we could, Sam…" She shook her head. "The energy would get Megatron's attention. It's why the First Seven had the Dam built around it…"

"We can't just—just _sit _here and wait for him to find us!" Sam's knee bounced rapidly, his eyes darting around the streets. "We have to _do _something…"

…

Appearing on the scene, Megatron dropped out of the sky, knocking a few steel balconies off the side of an apartment building.

Raising a fist as he landed, he growled, "_Megatron!_" Turning around, he walked out into the civilian filled street.

"It's Megatron!" Jazz yelled, waving his arms. "Retreat!"

Ratchet motioned to the humans beneath him. "Move!"

"Fall back!" Jazz told the soldiers before engaging Megatron in the hopes of giving Lennox and his team a chance to get away. The leader of the Decepticons fired his fusion cannon at him, blowing the ground right out from beneath the Autobot.

Flipping in the air, Jazz fell painfully to the ground, grunting and disoriented.

"Get our guys out of the way!" Lennox yelled. He turned to a car that braked suddenly next to him. "Get out of here! Go!"

"We need air cover down here, now!" Epps said into his radio.

Lennox's team fled the area.

…

Chloe paced, wringing her hands. She turned to Bumblebee. "Can you stand?"

He pushed his arms up beneath him.

"I know it'll be hard; you're used to having much longer legs…" She stared at him searchingly. "But can you stand?"

He grunted, blue eyes darting to the ground, and finally shoved himself up onto his much shorter legs. He tested them, stumbling at first. But after a few, short steps, he raised his stubby legs and gave them a shake. Hands on his hips, he nodded at her.

"Look at that!" Sam cheered, clapping his hands. "See? What'd I tell you, buddy! No legs! _Half _legs!" He shrugged. "Same deal, right?"

Chloe chuckled. "Good…" She quirked her head and raised a brow. "Now, you remember when we had that conversation about how the next time I tell you to run, you should?"

His metal eyebrows fell hard over his eyes, but he nodded shortly.

"Now would be that time…"

He whined electronically.

She sighed. "But you're not going to listen to me…"

Bumblebee shrugged, holding his hands out in a 'what-can-you-do' fashion.

She half-smiled knowingly. "Which is why I'm just going to have to suck it up and trust that you'll kick ass and make it through this…"

Sam nodded. "It's all about choices, man. You can be a hero, but just, y'know, be a _smart _hero… Not—Not one of those run in and take a bullet for somebody else types, all right?" He waved his hands negatively. "No, you gotta be the guy who saves the world and still gets home, a couple legs short but whatever…" He stared up at him searchingly. "You think you can do that, big guy?"

Bumblebee nodded rapidly before raising his chin into the air. His radio blared out, "_Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee—_" He took a few punches at the air. "_Mama, I'm comin' ho-oooome!_"

"Something like that," Chloe mused, rolling her eyes.

Bumblebee looked between them and then pointed at the Cube. "_I trust in you—Make the right decision—_"

Sam nodded. "We will..."

…

Holding Jazz in one foot, Megatron flew through the air to land atop a building, keeping him pinned between a pillar and his foot as he surveyed the destruction below.

"That all you got, Megatron?" Jazz spat at him, struggling to get out.

"Come here, little cretin…" Megatron plucked him up by one of his legs.

Jazz shot at him, though it did little more than vaguely irritate the Decepticon. "You wanna piece of me? You wanna piece?"

"No!" he growled, grabbing either of Jazz's arms. He started pulling him apart slowly.

"Ahhh…"

He finally tore him in half and held the pieces up in victory. "I want _two!_"

…

"What's going on?" Lennox demanded of his team.

Burke stared down the street through a pair of binoculars, only to see Devastator standing slowly. "Sir! That tank-thing's getting back up!"

Lennox stared out into the distance, panting. "Oh, these things just don't die…"

Behind them, above on a building, Blackout landed, his helicopter blades retracting to his back.

Gaping, Lennox sighed, "Oh, we're so dead…"

…

Sam raised a fist up in the air. "Good luck out there," he said.

Bumblebee lowered his own to give him a fist-bump.

"Sam!" Lennox called out, racing up to them. An explosion landed on the street behind them, taking out a small shop. "Where's the Cube?"

Chloe held it up.

"Okay…" He kept running, calling out to his right. "Epps, get those Black Hawks here!" Pausing next to a chunk of upturned concrete, he stared down a street and nodded. "That building."

"What's he doing?" Sam wondered, glancing at her.

She shook her head. "Strategizing?" With a frown, she added, "Hopefully he has a plan, 'cause so far, all I've got is the sewers and I don't know about _you_, but I'm not a huge fan of rats…"

"Really? 'Cause I was kind of hoping he might come back and tell us to catch the next Greyhound home… That he—he _had _it, y'know? 'Cause we—_I_—I'm not _equipped _for this!" He motioned around with his fingers. "This is _beyond _me…"

Chloe stared at him. "Hate to break it to you, but you're in the middle of it… And that bus isn't picking us up anytime soon…"

"Don't—Don't _jinx _it, okay? 'Cause it _could!"_ He widened his eyes at her. "It could happen and we could be safe and comfy back in Burbank, all right? And then—Then I'll have to say, 'Well, I told you so, Chloe… I _told _you!'"

She frowned. "Okay, I really think you need a nap or something, because you're already getting hysterical on me and this is not helping."

"_Helping? _Well I'm sorry I'm not _used _to this okay? I—I'm sorry I'm not like your precious _Clark_ and I can't save your life a million times an—and stop a crazy group of alien robots from destroying our world and killing mankind, okay?"

She stared back at him, her brows furrowed. "_What? _What are you even _talking _about? Clark—Clark has _nothing _to do with this!"

"Yeah, but I bet you wish he was, huh?" He held his arms out. "Bet he'd have some—some _master _plan!"

"I—I don't _know!_" She threw her hands up. "Did he happen to save the day a lot? _Yes! _But have I been spending the last couple days of _crazy_ wishing he was in the alien car with me? _No!_" She put her hands on her hips. "Look, Clark might be a lot of things, and yes, hero is probably one of them, but I haven't seen or spoken to him in two years, so I can't say he's the first person I think of when anything huge happens in my life. If that's anyone, it's _you_, so if you're done with the measuring stick, maybe you'd like to help me figure out how to hide this Cube from the giant, homicidal robot, all right?" she yelled.

He stared back at her, panting mouth agape.

Lennox ran back to them, out of breath as he lowered his gun to his side. "Okay…" He turned to the two teenagers. "All right, I can't leave my guys back there, so here, take this flare." He dug it out of one of his many vest pockets and handed it to Sam. He motioned to where he'd just been standing and used his hand to motion turning right. "Okay, there's a _tall_, white building with statues on top. Go to the roof. Set the flare."

Sam shook his head. "What? _No_."

"Signal the chopper and set the flare—"

"No, no. I can't do this!" he argued.

Lennox reached out and grabbed Sam by his shirt, yanking him in close. "Listen to me!" he growled. "You're a _soldier_ now!" He stared at him searchingly.

Sam panted back, eyes wide.

"All right?" He reached over and plucked the All Spark from Chloe's hands. "I need you to take this _Cube_. Get it into military hands while we hold them off." He shoved it at his chest. "Or a lot of people are gonna die." He turned to Chloe and took her arm. "You got to go," he told her. "You gotta go."

She stared up at him defiantly. "You really think I'm about to leave?" She shook her head, eyes narrowed. "My uncle would never let me live it down. The humiliation would be total."

"You need to _go_," he shouted. "The General would _kill _me if he found out I left you alone in a goddamn war zone!"

"What he doesn't now won't hurt him…" She pointed behind her. "Listen, Bumblebee is a little shorter, but just as deadly…" She shook her head. "Do me a favor and don't lose him."

"Chloe—"

"Sam and I will get the Cube to the military, you hold off as many of them as you can…" She started backing up toward Sam, her eyes staring back seriously. Reaching behind her back, she plucked the gun from her waist band and cocked it. "Keep my Autobot alive, Lennox…"

Smirking, he shook his head and saluted her. "Bumblebee, you're with us!" he called, twirling his finger in the air and jogging off.

Epps sent it out over the radio. "Army Black Hawk requested. Immediate evac for civilian boy and girl with precious cargo. Headed to rooftop marked by flare."

Sam dragged a hand through his hair, staring at Chloe searchingly. "Do you know what you're _doing?_" He waved a hand out past her. "You should listen to him… You should go. Find… Find the _bus_ o-or somewhere safe. _Hide!_"

She shook her head. "You don't get it, do you?" She sighed. "We're surrounded by alien robots duking it out, the whole world as _we _know it could be ending any second, and we're the only ones who know how to keep it safe just a _little _while longer…" She walked toward him, eyes darting all over his face. "And you know what scares me?" she laughed emotionally.

He shook his head faintly, his chest heaving.

"I'm completely, stupidly, _crazy _about you…" She stabbed a finger at him. "The whole, rest of the world can burn, and all I'm worried about is _you_…" Her voice hitched. "So _no_, hiding somwhere safe is not an _option_, all right?" She licked her lips and blinked back her tears. "We get to that building, we hand off the Cube, and we go back to Burbank where I will _happily_ and _devotedly _watch you fall all over yourself for Mikaela, just as long as you're _alive!_" She raised a brow. "All _right?_"

"I—"

"Sam, Chloe, we will protect you!" Ironhide interrupted, as he and Ratchet appeared on the scene.

Panting, he stared at Chloe a long second, before finally nodding up at the old Autobot. "Okay."

As he moved to start running, Chloe stopped him. "Here. In case we get separated…" She dug a grenade out of her purse and dropped it in his hand, closing his fingers around it tightly. "You pull the pin, you throw it at Megatron, and you run as far away as you can…"

Licking his lips, he nodded jerkily. "Okay."

"Kids! Get to the building!" Ironhide yelled.

"Move!" Ratchet encouraged.

As they started running, Devastator took aim behind them.

"Decepticons, attack!" Megatron called out.

"Hit it!" Burke yelled.

Devastator shot off two missiles at them.

The soldiers ducked as fire exploded just outside of their make-shift cement hideout.

"Cover fire!" Ratchet exclaimed, turning back to shoot.

Ironhide leapt over a pile of debris, cartwheeling back onto his feet and shooting at the Decepticon in the distance.

Chloe and Sam raced down the street.

Arms pumping, Sam turned the corner, looking back over his shoulder and grunting at the sight of fire and explosions that seemed to follow him no matter how far he got.

"Watch out!" Ironhide yelled, jumping in front of them and lifting a car to block a laser cannon shot that Blackout sent their way, standing in front of them in the middle of a destroyed street.

Ironhide fell back from the blast, while Blackout transformed back into a helicopter and surged forward over Sam and Chloe's heads.

…

"Can you fight?" Lennox asked Bumblebee, ducking as Devastator shot continuously at their cover, stomping closer and closer.

Bumblebee nodded, raising his guns.

"Good… 'Cause we're gonna need you."

…

Speeding down an alleyway, knocking over garbage cans, Optimus Prime swerved onto a main street and transformed into his Autobot frame. Bracing his arms, he growled, "_Megatron!_"

"Prime!" Megatron yelled, tossing the remains of Jazz in opposite directions.

Leaping off the top of the building, he transformed into a jet and blasted toward the leader of the Autobots.

When he was close enough, Optimus jumped up into the air and grabbed onto him.

They tumbled through the air, with the added weight of Optimus sending them into a disorganized spin. They knocked out the corner of an old building, sending cement debris tumbling to the ground. Flying forward, they burst right through the center of an office building. The people inside scattered as Megatron's wingspan destroyed everything in its reach while three floors were gutted by the massive, robot bodies. Exploding out the other side of the skyscraper, they fell to the ground below, rolling in a mess of metal arms and legs. Screaming civilians ran away at the sight.

Megatron pinned Optimus to the ground, drawing back an arm and slamming his fist down into Optimus' chest. "Humans don't deserve to live," he growled.

Optimus struggled against him, shoving a hand against his head and gripping his jaw. "They deserve to choose for themselves!"

Megatron threw his arm off. "Then you will die _with them!_" He lifted him up by his shoulders and swung him around, throwing him to the street where he crashed into an on-coming car.

Bracing his hands down on the ground, he gave an animalistic growl, his left arm opening and a metallic gun sliding out from the cover. Raising both his arms to hold it steady, he slammed his hands together, and aimed his fusion cannon.

Before he could fire, however, Optimus leapt up and grabbed the ion blaster from his back, taking a shot before Megatron had time to power-up completely.

Using the momentum of the blast that knocked him into a spin, Megatron fell to one knee and returned fire.

The gamma-irradiated plasma that hit Optimus square in the chest threw him back, spinning head over feet, until he collided with a building down the road.

As he tumbled back, he crashed to the ground below on his back, grunting in pain.

…

Meanwhile, Sam and Chloe were racing down a busy street, avoiding panicked civilians and abandoned cars.

"Keep moving!" Ironhide told them, running at their right with Ratchet "Don't stop!"

Blackout landed on the road ahead of them, though, and used his rotor weapon to destroy a cab, spinning them at Chloe and Sam who, despite being terrified of being sliced into lunch meat, continued on through. The whole front end of a car just barely missed them, ricocheting off of his blades and into a café on their left.

"Don't look back!" Sam yelled, grabbing Chloe's hand and shaking his head. "Don't look back!"

As they burst onto the next street, Megatron flew toward them in his jet-form. Transforming mid-air, he landed suddenly, feet sparking as they skidded across the road.

Chloe and Sam stumbled to a stop.

"That's bad… That's really bad," Sam muttered, backing up.

"Understatement." Chloe yanked his arm and together they began running the other way.

Megatron chased after them, knocking cars out of his way and sending them tumbling front over back, crashing into each other.

Sam and Chloe hit the ground and took cover as Ratchet and Ironhide met Megatron head on.

Megatron fired rapidly at Ratchet, while Ironhide blasted him in the shoulder, giving Ratchet time to get up off the ground. But as a missile hit him, he rolled across the ground, fire licking at his chest. Ironhide was hit hard and fell onto his back, while Ratchet gathered his strength enough to stand and shoot back at Megatron, who leapt into the air and returned to jet form, just above the two teenagers' heads. He blasted off into the sky, between Ironhide and Ratchet, and out of sight.

Injured, Ironhide fell to his knees. "Get to the building!"

Ratchet lay pained next to him.

Sam and Chloe leapt up, panting and wide-eyed. They took off down the street again, with Sam searching around wildly, scanning for Decepticons.

"Sam!" She grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back as Megatron spun down from the sky, landing on his feet in the street.

He grabbed a stray car and tossed it behind him, advancing toward them. "Give me that _Cube_, boy!"

"Run! Run! Run!" she said, shoving him down a side street.

They hurried through traffic, barely dodging a few frenzied cab drivers. Sam slammed into the front of an SUV and fell backwards, rolling across the ground, the Cube hit the pavement and sent out a blue energy that spread out, enveloping the SUV, climbing up an X-Box in a man's arms, and zipping across a green Mountain Dew machine.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked, grabbing his hand and helping him up.

He nodded. "I'm good." He squeezed her hand. "Come on," he said and they raced off once more.

…

Inside the SUV, the driver, an irritated woman, wondered, "Did that _jerk _just _dent _my car?"

The horn suddenly spun and stuck out from the wheel.

She screamed in horror as the whole steering wheel suddenly became animated, a mini-Decepticon forming and leaping onto her face.

Steel, robotic arms broke out from the Xbox and turned clawed hands on the scared man holding it.

Lastly, the Mountain Dew machine burst out of its metal security box and started shooting cans from its arm at terrified civilians.

…

Far down the road, Sam and Chloe had reached the white building Lennox directed them too. Tall, with arched windows, most of the windows shattered, the outside was marred with dirt; its age showing around the dilapidated cement pillars that were crumbling all over. Surrounded by a chain-link fence with barbed wire ringing the top, Chloe thought it was overkill considering the gate was wide open.

Panting, they ran inside and across the dusty open floor. "He's not gonna get us. He's not gonna get us," Sam chanted to himself, running through the halls, shafts of sunlight biting at their eyes.

Behind them, Megatron stepped through one of the front windows, glass shattering and tumbling to the floor. Throwing his arms up, he yelled, "I _smell _you… Fearful little_ cockroaches!_"

"Christ. Christ." Sam ran up the stairs, shoving off a wall as he moved higher.

Megatron crawled through the main floor, wrapping a hand around a pillar and snarling as he turned beady red eyes to the ceiling.

Sam and Chloe were running across the second floor when Megatron's head burst through it just behind them, swinging an arm and destroying the floor and part of a wall in the process. He bared his teeth and growled at them. "Maggots!"

Sam paused on the stairs, looking back and then up to the winding staircase that seemed to go on forever. "_Shit_…"

"We can do this!" she told him, pushing him forward.

Nodding, he started climbing.

…

Lennox and his team were shooting at Devastator from the cover of a blown-out store.

"No! No!" Epps hollered, eyes narrowed.

Devastator swung in circles, gun firing rapidly.

He took out a wall just behind a soldier, who hit his knees fast, the debris bursting back at him.

Lennox raised a cannon gun and was able to catch Devastator in the shoulder.

As he returned fire, an entire wall burst into chunks of concrete, raining down all around them and knocking them off balance.

Lennox grunted, staring wide-eyed at the Decepticon. "This isn't going well!"

Bumblebee raised his arm and started shooting at Devastator from behind. When he turned, he caught him hard on the chest.

Growling, he was thrown off his feet and stumbled backwards. Bumblebee ran at him, jumping up into the air and slamming his fist into Devastator's head. But the larger Decepticon was able to shake him off, throwing him into a building.

Rolling back onto his shorter legs, Bumblebee kept firing and with the added bullets of Lennox's team, Devastator was brought to his knees, on fire and with blue sparks flickering off of him. But every time he looked to be going down, he got right back up. Body riddled with bullets, he shook them off and fired back.

Finally, Bumblebee got the money shot; hitting directly atop Devastator's chest plate and beneath his neck.

The Decepticon whirled backwards and fell against a wall covering Lennox's team; it crumbled on impact, sending dust and debris at them.

Proud of himself, Bumblebee walked over and bent inside to see how the soldiers were doing.

"Nice shot…" Lennox walked toward him. "You all right?"

"_No pain, no gain!_" he replied through his radio.

Lennox nodded and then clapped a hand against the charred, unmoving remains of Devastator. "That tank is definitely dead now. All right, let's go!" He hopped out a window and nodded at Bumblebee. "We got business!"

…

Halfway up the stairs, Chloe stopped. Panic ate away at her chest, but she stuck her fingers into her purse and reached past the familiar texture of the grenades to the last-resort she'd had hidden away.

Sam nearly made it another flight when he noticed she wasn't there. Turning back around, he searched the stairs until he spotted her. "What—What are you doing? C'mon!"

Shaking her head very slightly, she told him forcefully, "Go!" She waved him away.

"What?" He ran down a few stairs toward her.

She knelt next to a wall and swallowed thickly. "Sam, _go!_" she exclaimed.

"Are you serious? I—I'm not leaving you here!" He hugged the Cube in one arm and braced a hand on the ledge. "What are you doing?"

"Slowing him down," she told him, dusting out the small crevice she'd found before she brought out a brick of C-4. She tucked it inside carefully before looking up at him. "I only have a few of these but they're seriously strong, so you need to get the hell out of here, _now!_"

His brows furrowed. "Where the hell did you—?" He paused, shaking his head. "The weapons depot at Hoover Dam? What else did you grab?"

"This is not the time to discuss my five-finger discount, all right?" She stood, her eyes wide. "You need to get to the roof and I need to blow up a Decepticon!"

He ground his teeth. "I won't leave you here."

"Sam—"

"We're getting out of here together or not at all!" he yelled.

She stared at him a long second, her eyebrows knotted.

Sacrifice was something she was familiar with, but it wasn't something she'd seen in Sam much. It wasn't that he was selfish, she'd never thought that about him, but aside from a lack of popularity, Sam had a pretty easy life. Up until now. Up until his car turned out to be an alien and he was entrusted with the one thing that could either save or destroy their world. And now here he was, despite not wanting to be there at all, willing to stand by her even if she sent the whole building crumbling atop their heads… Talk about timing. If she had ever thought she could get past her feelings for him, now she knew different.

"Fine." She nodded. "But you need to keep moving." She shoved him forward. "C'mon…"

Climbing up the stairs, they paused three more times as Chloe found places to hide the C-4 blocks.

As they reached the roof of the building, they burst out the door.

"Go! Go! Go!" she yelled at him, waving.

He raced forward across the roof, searching the skies for help.

Turning back, Chloe took out the remote. She listened hard, trying to hear the Decepticon below, clawing his destructive way closer, but with the explosions in the distance, it was hard to decipher who was who and where it was coming from.

Kneeling on the ground a fair distance away and behind a vent, she pushed the red switch down and held her breath. As the bricks below went off, she flinched. One after the other, barely a half-second apart, they set off a chain reaction as the stairs were blown out. She watched as the door they'd just come through was blown off its hinges and fire and debris was sent up into the sky. A crack reached out from where the door once was and with it, the cement beneath her began to crumble. The blast radiated far enough that it was taking much of the dilapidated roof along with it.

Jumping up, she started to run away, but the roof was uneven and falling faster than her feet could move. Soon enough, Chloe felt gravity grab hold of her and yank her from safety, into the dark depths below. She let out a gasp of a breath, determined not to call Sam back toward the deathtrap she'd made. Tears stinging her eyes, she smiled as her only reward reached her ears. The angry yell of Megatron echoed up as the ceiling caved atop him.

[**Next**: Part IX.]


	9. Part IX

**Title**: Transformers: Heroic Hearts  
><strong>Category<strong>: Smallville/Transformers  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Humor/Action/Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Chloe Sullivan/Sam Witwicky  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Giant spoilers, violence, strong language, sexuality  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Whole chunks of the movie Transformers (2007) were rewritten here for coherence, so any of those who haven't seen the movies would be able to understand. I take no credit for any parts recognizable to the brand or the movies themselves.  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 7,439  
><strong>Overall Status<strong>: Complete  
><strong>Summary<strong>: (AU) All Sam wanted was a car and the girl of his dreams. He gets both; only neither are who or what he expected.

**_Transformers: Heroic Hearts_**  
>-Novel-<p>

**IX.**

Sam stumbled as the building shook beneath him and an explosion burst up into the sky. When he turned back, shoulders hunched, mouth agape as he panted, he could see fire spitting up behind a cloud of black smoke. The door they'd come through sailed through the air to land on a nearby shed. He grabbed onto a railing and held on, staring in wait to see Chloe burst back onto the scene.

As the smoke cleared some, his eyes darted around, landing on the giant hole where the stairs and a giant portion of the roof used to be.

"_Chloe!" _he yelled, his face red with exertion, the veins along his neck sticking out.

The whooshing noise of the helicopters in the distance drew his stinging eyes. He turned his head and watched, brows furrowed, as the Black Hawk swung around and toward the building.

He reached for the flare in his pocket and pulled it out, staring down at it in his dirt smudged palm.

For a moment, all he could hear was his heartbeat. He hit his knees, the Cube balanced on his thigh, and stared at the smoking hole she'd been swallowed by. The flare rolled out of his hand, bouncing slightly. As he blinked, a tear caught on his lashes. Brows furrowed, Sam felt his breath leave his chest in a whoosh. His heart lurched in his chest. And all he could think of was that first day he met her. Of how she'd smiled at him and he'd felt himself automatically grinning back. How that _still _happened, two years later.

Chloe was the best thing to happen to him in seventeen years of life. It wasn't a car, alien or not. It wasn't Mikaela Banes finally acknowledging his existence. It was a girl who'd stuck by him through every failed attempt at popularity and getting his dream girl. Who sat with him while his mom and an ambulance was called after football tryouts ran him into the ground. Who loved Mojo almost as much as he did. Who willingly walked into an alien versus alien versus human race _war_ and stuck by him no matter the risk.

He dragged his fingers through his hair and gripped it tight. "Oh God…" He pressed a shaking arm against his face and tried to breathe, to focus.

The world was depending on him.

The world was—

And the alien robots, they—

"_I'm completely, stupidly, _crazy_ about you_…" Her voice echoed in his ears. "_The whole, rest of the world can burn, and all I'm worried about is _you…"

Sniffling, he pressed the side of his curled fist to between his eyebrows. "No, no, no, no, _No! No! No!_" he screamed. His shoulders fell and his face crumbled as he shook his head.

The Black Hawk helicopter swung back around and Sam licked his lips. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath. Gripping the railing behind him, he pulled himself to his feet. Swiping his face of tears, he reached down for the flare, an empty hollowness radiating across his body.

Suddenly, he heard a grunt.

His eyes rose, focused on the hole, and his heart thumped painfully in his chest. Hope bloomed warm.

A hand burst out of the rubble and reached desperately.

Sam's breath left him on a desperate gasp. "Chloe." He ran forward. "Chloe!" Reaching the very edge, he fell to his knees, dust and debris kicked up beneath him.

Chloe was hanging precariously, gripping a bent piece of rebar sticking out of the blown up chunk of roof. She stared up at him, wide-eyed and pale. "Thought I… told you… to go…" she panted.

Shaking his head, relief making him crack a faint smile, he reached down and grabbed her up by her armpits. Using every bit of strength he had in him, his every muscle on fire, he pulled her up and out of the hole. As he fell back, panting thickly, she landed on top of him. Her whole body slumped in relief, face falling into his neck. She gripped the front of his shirt tightly. "Close… That was close."

He wrapped his arms around her tight and squeezed. _Too close_.

The familiar sound of helicopter blades cutting through the air had Chloe raising her head. "They're here…" Shoving up to her knees, she climbed off him. "Come on…" She held her hand out to him.

He stared up at her a long second, a little surprised that she could go from near-death experience to lets-save-the-world in two point five seconds, but finally, he took her hand and stood with her.

Grabbing up the flare he'd let fall to the ground, she waved it toward the Cube. "Sooner we hand this off, sooner I can stop playing Tomb Raider, right?"

He laughed shortly, nerves still frayed. "You're not bad at it…" He motioned to the back of his head. "Maybe grow your hair out, braid it… No—No dye. Blonde stays." He nodded. "I can see it. I can."

Rolling her eyes lightly, she backed up. "In your dreams, Witwicky…" With a wink, she turned and started running.

Smiling faintly, Sam chased after her and kept pace at her side.

Slamming the end of the flare on the side of a wall, she started waving it wildly. The vicious red flame was so bright they had to turn their heads away, the smoke clouding all around them.

"Heeey!" they yelled together. "Heeey! Over heeere!"

Atop a nearby building, Blackout landed, watching.

Two Black Hawk helicopters flew overhead, while a third rose up next to the ledge.

They slowed down and Chloe threw the flare away from them.

"We've got the kids," the pilot said into his helmet mic.

A soldier leaned out the side, arms reaching.

Sam leaned over the ledge, holding the Cube out as far as he could.

Out of the corner of her eye, just past the tail of the helicopter, Chloe spotted something unusual. Her brows furrowed, and seeing Blackout, she suddenly shouted, "No!"

"Watch out!" Sam said, seeing the missile headed in their direction. He stumbled backwards, arm pressed into Chloe to shove her out of reach.

The missile hit the top of the helicopter, which lost control immediately, turning sideways and sending its tail directly at the two teenagers. It cut through the crumbling ledge, blades very nearly slicing them.

Pressed against the ground, the Cube hugged between them, Sam shouted in fear, closing his eyes.

Chloe watched in panicked fascination as the tail just barely missed them while the helicopter spun over them and out of sight.

Racing across the top of buildings, Optimus yelled to them, "Hang on!" The fiery skeleton of the helicopter fell past him and crashed into the roof of a nearby building.

As Sam and Chloe climbed to their feet to start running once more, Megatron's arms burst through the roof.

They backed up, searching for an escape and coming up empty. Finally, they climbed onto the ledge and hurried behind the angel statues overlooking the city. Sam took the very corner, while Chloe hid behind the one just to the left of him.

Growling and snapping, Megatron dragged himself up to stand among them.

"Is it fear or courage that compels you, fleshlings?"

Chloe hugged an arm around the angel while she dug in her bag of tricks.

Sam looked at her and seeing what she was doing, shook his head. "_No. No!_" he whisper-shouted at her.

Ignoring him, she pulled the pin with her teeth, but held the switch down with her hand.

Sam looked down below at the busy, far-away street, and gulped.

Chloe, fear of heights still very present, adamantly kept her eyes on the chipped and crumbling statue ahead of her, peeking around its wings to watch the robot alien walk ever closer.

Megatron gripped the angel statue to the left of Chloe with is claw-like hand. "Give me the All Spark and you may live to be my _pets!_" he offered.

"Eat fire, asshole!" Chloe yelled, tossing the grenade at him. She bent to her knees and hugged the angel tight, covering her face in her shoulder

Megatron raised an arm to cover himself, but it caught him in the chest all the same.

He growled, swiping at the fire bursting in his face. "I will tear the bones from your fragile body, female!"

Panting, Chloe stuck a shaking hand in her bag for another grenade.

Megatron reached out and slammed a fist through the angel above her.

"_Chloe!_"

She cried out, very nearly losing her grip. Panic, not only at being crushed but at falling to her death, made her heart thump painfully hard in her chest. Hugging the lower half of the statue, still in tact, she shook her head. "I'm okay!" To herself, she muttered, "Terrified beyond reason, but still technically riding the okay bandwagon…"

"Give me the Cube, boy!" he demanded, raising a hand in the air and curling his sharp fingers into a fist.

"I'm never giving you this All Spark!" Sam yelled back, his eyes darting from Megatron to Chloe.

"Oh… So unwise…" With a growl, Megatron swung a spiked mace down, destroying the ledge between Sam and Chloe, crumbling it so significantly that the angels fell apart and the humans holding them tumbled back toward their deaths.

Screaming, they fell, flipping head over feet, a Black Hawk helicopter flew past, unable to help.

Halfway down, Optimus' hand reached out and caught them both. He hugged them to his chest and said, "I got you!"

Panting, Sam stared at him with wide eyes. Chloe sat next to him, head arched back. In a daze, she admitted, "I'm starting to think all these near-death experiences are making up for two relatively safe years…"

"What's my excuse?" Sam wondered, turning to her.

She shrugged. "Seventeen painless years? You needed a little excitement."

"This is not a _little_, okay?" He motioned between them. "This—I-I—Different definitions, all right?"

"Hold on to the Cube!" Optimus told them. Before they had time to even reply, he flipped himself over and slid down the wall. Leaping to the other side, he slammed his back into the opposite building and fell a few more feet before repeating it on the other side. Bricks, debris and the steel balconies that were previously attached, rained down over their heads and crashed to the ground below.

Halfway down, Megatron landed on top of them and they crashed to the ground.

Megatron rolled off of him, landing on a car. As he sat up, a civilian stood and looked up at him. "No! Oh, no. Oh, no!"

"Dis-_gusting_," Megatron said, before flicking him away with a finger.

Optimus slowly lifted his hand and looked down at his chest were Chloe and Sam were folded together, holding the Cube between them.

"Sam?" Optimus asked. "Chloe?"

Lifting to their knees, they looked at him.

Sam's brows furrowed.

"You risked your life to protect the Cube…" Optimus said, a note of respect in his voice.

"No sacrifice..." Sam panted grimly. "No victory."

"If I cannot defeat Megatron, you must push the Cube into my chest…" His face fell in solemn understanding. "I will sacrifice myself to destroy it… Get behind me."

They scrambled off of him and Optimus pushed himself up slowly. "It's you and _me_, Megatron…"

"No…!" Megatron rose to his feet. "It's just _me_, Prime!"

Sam and Chloe ran below, where the cement had pulled up to make a tunnel of sorts, though the dirt and water mixed to create a glue-like mud, it was atleast deep enough to cover them from Megatron's eyes.

"At the end of this day, one shall stand, _one_ shall fall," Optimus promised.

Megatron threw him back, where he crashed into a building and rolled to the ground.

The dirt and rubble of his landing drifted down into Chloe and Sam's hiding spot. He threw his hand up to cover his face and hugged the Cube tighter to his chest.

"You still fight for the weak!" Megatron grabbed Optimus by his chest plate and threw him again. "That is why you _lose!_"

…

Lennox and his team marched down an alley just around the corner of where Optimus and Megatron were fighting.

In front of them, Blackout landed, changing from a helicopter into his Decepticon body, blades hugged to his back. Not seeing them, he walked down the street, while Lennox was bent low, armed with a cannon gun.

Epps turned around, telling Lennox, "Fighter jets in 60 seconds." Lifting his radio, he warned air support, "We got friendlies mixed with bad guys. Targets will be marked."

Lennox crawled over and clapped his arm. "Hey…"

Epps turned to him.

"Bring the rain," Lennox told him, nodding. He slapped his arm once more and started backing up. "All right, let's kill these things…"

Epps headed out onto the street with a few men following at his back. "Move, move, move."

"Remember, aim low," Lennox called to them. "Armor's weak under the chest."

Throwing his gun around to his back, Lennox hurried out onto the street and grabbed up a motorcycle. Climbing on, he revved the engine and drove it in the opposite direction of Blackout.

Taking cover behind a car, Epps raised a laser pointer and shot a green light at Blackout, flashing it over the back of the Decepticon's right knee.

"Target marked," he said into his radio. "Still waiting."

A pilot replied, "Time on target, twenty seconds."

High above Mission City, a group of F-22 jets flew in.

Doing a U-ey, Lennox swerved to a halt and bent his head low, staring on in grim determination.

"F-22s, we're still waiting," Epps said. His laser slipped up higher, landing on Blackout's left gun-arm.

Seeing it, Blackout suddenly turned around and raised his gun at Epps and the others.

Eyes wide, he yelled, "Move out!" Jumping to his feet, he started running.

Blackout shot a blue plasma burst at them that exploded the car they were once using as a shield.

Rolling onto his stomach, radio to his ear, Epps screamed, "_Incoming!_"

Lennox surged forward on his motorcycle, weaving through abandoned cars and running civilians.

The F-22's dove down and shot off numerous missiles, which hit Blackout directly in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards

Turning his bike sideways, Lennox fell into a long skid along the pavement, bringing him up close and personal as he slid right on beneath the Decepticon, firing his cannon gun into Blackout's chest and crotch.

Laughing gleefully, he went right on through his legs, while Blackout burst into flames, leaking blue fluid, and fell useless to the ground in a sparking, shaking heap.

Coming to a stop, Lennox stared on, mouth gaping, and rolled onto his stomach. Hollering in triumph, he pushed to his feet and waved at his fellow soldier. "Run! Move!" He started toward Optimus and Megatron next.

…

Sam and Chloe belly-crawled in the dirt, among debris and bent rebar protruding from chunks of upturned cement.

Optimus tumbled to the ground, grunting as he struggled to push himself off, while Megatron took two quick steps toward him before kicking him in the head hard enough to send him spinning through the air.

Sam flinched, closing his eyes and ducking his head. He hugged the Cube into his chest and shook his head, struggling with the decision he knew he would have to make soon.

Chloe's hand covered his; she squeezed his fingers reassuringly.

Lifting his head, their eyes locked.

"I'll cover you," she told him, nodding her chin determinedly.

…

"Second wave's on approach," an F-22 pilot informed.

Just behind them, however, Starscream transformed partly, leaving his wings and jets in-tact.

"_What is that?_" another pilot exclaimed. "Break off!"

"Copy!"

The Decepticon soared above, landing on one jet hard enough to send it off course, and jumped forward, turning midway to shoot back at them. On fire and out of control, three F-22's fell from the sky. Starscream barrel-rolled along with another before swinging his arm across to take out the tail of a jet and again to destroy a wing; it spun into the top of a building and burst into flames.

The remaining four jets followed after him. "Two, get a lock! Pop that guy!"

Starscream folded back into an F-22 to blend, but they took a shot at his tail and he was forced to return to his Decepticon body, hovering as a jet flew past him. He took a swing but missed and instead gave chase, back as an F-22 once more.

"Stay on him. Keep him in your sights."

…

"Take him out!" Lennox order as he and his team advanced.

Epps raised a gun and took a shot.

Above, the F-22's shot their missiles at Megatron, landing them squarely in his chest.

Sam and Chloe leapt out of their cover.

Megatron was struggling against the constant barrage of missiles being shot at him, bringing him to his knees. As the F-22's flew away to circle back, Lennox and his team climbed the chunks of asphalt to shoot at him as well.

Megatron, blue sparks spitting off of him, ran toward Sam and Chloe as they hurried to Optimus.

Arm out, he nearly caught them, but Optimus swung an arm back and knocked his legs out from beneath him. Megatron rolled across the dirt and rubble, while Sam crab-walked backwards, panting.

Megatron crawled toward him, slamming a clawed hand down into the pavement just a few short feet from him. "I'll kill you!"

Sam stared up, wide-eyed, chest heaving.

"Mine!" he grunted. "All-Spark!"

Chloe bent back and lifted her gun, emptying the clip into Megatron's face.

Howling, Megatron threw his head back and pressed a hand against his eyes.

Chloe squeezed the trigger three more times, but it was empty; she tossed the gun away and instead reached for her bag, pulling out a grenade in each hand. "Take cover!" she told Sam.

"Sam!" Optimus said, drawing his attention as he rolled painfully onto his stomach. "Put the cube in my chest!"

Sam shoved to his feet, hugging the Cube as he looked back to Optimus.

"No! Give _me_ the Cube, _boooy_…." Megatron demanded. One hand still pressed to his smoking, sparking face, he reached down and scooped Chloe up in his clawed hand.

"No! No! Stop!" Sam held a hand up desperately. "_Wait!_"

Megatron bared his metallic teeth and sneered, "That is the failing of mankind… Compassion… Loyalty…" He snapped his teeth and growled, "_Love_."

Chloe struggled in Megatron's grip, shoving at his fingers wound tight around her body. She shook her head and kicked her legs. "Don't. Give him. The Cube!" she yelled.

Sam looked from her to Megatron, his eyes wide, his jaw wound tight. "Don't—Don't hurt her!"

"Sam, shut up!"

"Quiet, female!" Megatron squeezed her.

She cried out painfully, her head falling back.

"No! Stop! _Stop!_" Sam ran forward, skidding to a halt as Megatron looked down at him with one vicious red eye, the other popped free and sparking.

"No, Sam!" Optimus called to him.

Panting, Sam held a hand up to ask him to stay, to stop. His eyes, red and brimming with tears, stared at Chloe searchingly.

She shook her head, that same calm understanding washing over her face that she'd had just before she let his hand go. _Sacrifice_. A concept she seemed to be way too familiar with.

"I don't—I don't want Mikaela," he told her, his voice catching.

Her brows furrowed. "I… It's… This is _not _the time for that conversation," she choked back.

He shook his head, a few stray tears dripping down his face. Sniffing, he turned to Megatron. "A trade… Same time. No funny business…" He pointed. "Cube for the girl."

"No, _Sam!_" She struggled harder. "No!"

Megatron leaned forward on one knee. "The Cube first…" He held out a hand, silvery, sharp fingers reaching.

"You want the Cube?" Sam glared. "_Take it!_" He reached up and shoved the All Spark directly into Megatron's chest, where the rapid missile fire had destroyed all cover, exposing his own personal spark.

Snarling and growling ferociously, the Decepticon threw his head back in pain. As blue energy rippled over him, his hand released and Chloe tumbled to the ground rapidly. Sam couldn't let go, the pressure of the Cube in his fingers too strong. As it broke into tiny little cubes, they rose up into Megatron's chest where a fiery liquid had formed and spread. Megatron stumbled backwards, pressing a hand to his chest. He fell to his knees then, head whirling side to side as he choked desperately before falling back to the ground. One last hollow growl escaped him before he lay down in the dirt.

Sam stood staring down at him, panting heavily, eyes wide in shock.

"Chloe," he muttered. "_Chloe!_" He turned around, eyes darting wildly.

Bumblebee drew his attention with a small, whirring noise, and carried Chloe to him in his hands, his steps much smaller and shorter.

"Hey!" Sam reached for her.

Arm wrapped around her ribs, she pushed up carefully and slid to the ground to stand on her own two feet. "Hey," she returned, half-smiling.

He let out a choked half-laugh before wrapping her up into his arms and pulling her in tight to his chest.

She hissed in pain.

"Sorry! Sorry!" He loosened his grip. "Are you okay?" He looked down at her worriedly, keeping an arm around her waist to hold her steady. "You—You break anything? Do we— Can we get some medical attention?" He turned his head. "Can— I-I need an ambulance over here!" he shouted to whoever was listening, pointing at her meaningfully.

She laughed slightly and grabbed his hand down. "I'm fine." She nodded, squeezing his wrist reassuringly. "Really…" Staring past his shoulder, she watched as Optimus slowly approached the battered, lifeless body of Megatron. "Better than some…"

In the distance, Lennox and his team approached, guns at the ready. "Hold up," he said as Optimus leaned over the Decepticon.

Megatron's eyes flickered before going dark.

"You left me no _choice_, brother," Optimus told him disappointedly.

Ironhide and Rachet joined everyone, the latter holding what used to be Jazz.

Optimus knelt in front of the two teenagers then, balancing himself with one hand braced on the ground below. "Sam…" He looked between them. "The courage it took to make the decision you did is _immeasurable_…" He bowed his head. "I owe you my life… _We _are in your debt."

Sam stared up at him and nodded slowly, not exactly sure what to say to that.

Optimus stood once more and looked out over the group.

"Prime," Ironhide said. He handed the pieces over solemnly. "We couldn't save him."

"Oh, Jazz," Optimus sighed. He addressed the group together, of Autobots and soldiers, and Sam and Chloe. "We lost a great comrade…. But _gained_ new ones. Thank you. _All_ of you. You honor us with your bravery."

Bumblebee buzzed. "Permission to speak, sir?"

"Permission _granted_, old friend."

"You speak now?" Sam asked, astonished.

"I wish to _stay_ with the boy," Bumblebee said hopefully.

"If that's his choice."

Sam stared up at him and smiled. Nodding, he said, "Yes."

Bumblebee raised his chin proudly.

Chloe grinned. "Good. Because if you weren't going to take him, I was going to steal him for myself."

Bumblebee raised an arm out to her and with a chuckle, she fist-bumped him.

Behind them, Optimus knelt down next to Megatron and reached into the ashes of his chest. He dug out a sliver of what was left of the Cube, staring at it thoughtfully, before he folded it into his fist.

Yawning, Chloe rested her head on Sam's shoulder. "That was stupid, by the way… Bargaining like that…" She raised a brow at him. "He would've killed us both."

He rubbed her back before grinning certainly. "I had a plan," he assured.

She snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure…"

"Jeez, I save your life and you _still _give me a hard time?" he scoffed dramatically. "What's a guy gotta do to get a little respect around here?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh…"

He waved a finger around. "I saved _you_, the _world_, and I hardly broke a sweat, so maybe everybody should be a little more grateful and a little less—"

Smiling amusedly, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, cutting him off.

"Okay," he said against her mouth. "That's better." Wrapping his arms around her more completely, he hugged her to his chest, slanting his lips over hers firmly.

Chloe dragged her fingers down the back of his hair, squeezing his neck lightly before she gripped his shoulder and leaned whole-heartedly into the heat of his tongue dabbing at her lip and dragging along the roof of her mouth. She didn't care that her ribs hurt or the adrenaline that had been keeping her going was wearing off or that the world had very nearly ended. She didn't even care that they were surrounded by alien robots and a crew of Army Rangers. All she cared about was that she was finally, _finally_, getting the guy. And not just any guy either. But Sam. Her best friend of two years; the goofy, funny, one-of-a-kind guy that she'd been half in love with practically from day one of meeting him. A guy who _didn't _want the pretty, popular girl instead of her. Not Lana, not Mikaela, but _her_. And victory tasted a whole lot like the best beginning to something wonderfully life-changing.

…

Chloe winced as the paramedic wrapped her ribs. "This will work for awhile, but you should go to the hospital," he suggested, patting her shoulder.

She raised a brow. "Listen, I appreciate the advice, but—"

"She will," Sam interrupted her, nodding his head. He held a fist to his chin, his elbow tucked in his other hand as he stood close by, tapping his foot, watching worriedly. "We're headed there now."

"Are we?" She nodded her head past him. "Because I think we're about to be debriefed…"

Sam's jaw ticked as he spotted the incoming black SUV's. "And we can do that after you've seen a doctor," he said stubbornly.

She smiled faintly. "I appreciate the thought, _Hero_… But I hardly think a little trouble breathing is going to turn their heads…"

"Your ribs are _bruised_," he reminded, brows lifted. "If they weren't bruised _before_, and they _weren't_, and they're bruised _now_, and they _are_, then we need to see somebody about that…" He nodded emphatically. "Somebody who can make sure everything's all where it's supposed to be, right? I mean, you were tossed around a lot." His eyes widened. "You were kind of blown up!"

"I was not…" She rolled her eyes. "I fell into a hole made from an explosion _I _caused… There's a difference."

"No, no, we're not… There's no _technicalities_ here, all right? You're hurt and you need to see a doctor. A—A real one, not some guy in the back of a—a _van_, okay?" He waved a hand dismissively at the paramedic. "No offense."

"Uh…"

"It's the shock," she tried to explain to the paramedic. "Ignore him. He's clearly got mental issues."

"Uh-huh, yeah, just spread it around…" He waved his hands around. "Excuse me for wanting to make sure you don't have internal bleeding from being a sacrificial martyr, huh! 'Cause it doesn't matter that the last couple days we've been thrown around like rag dolls, chased by aliens _and _government agents, and you've nearly died _three _times! Not once, not twice, _three! _O-Or thrice. Or, y'know, _whatever_…"

"Sam…" She reached out and squeezed his arm. "I promise you, I will eventually see a doctor…" She hopped down from the back of the ambulance. "Just as soon as the governments hands over your parents, Mojo, and makes us sign a confidentiality agreement, okay?"

"No. No, we're not doing that." He paused, eyes turning off thoughtfully. "Okay, maybe we can strike a deal, right? Like they can deliver my parents _to _the hospital…" He was nodding with his suggestion now, tucking his arms around himself. "Yeah, and maybe that'll take the edge off dad, right? He can't be mad at me if I'm in the _hospital_." He clapped his hands and pointed at the ground. "That's what we're gonna do, okay?"

"Sam Witwicky and Chloe Sullivan?" a man asked, drawing their immediate attention. He stood tall and intimidating, dressed in an expensive and heavily starched black suit. "You need to come with us."

"Awesome," Sam said. "You guys up for a hospital detour? 'Cause that's where we're headed." He nodded his head behind him. "Paramedics orders."

The suited man raised an eyebrow.

Chloe turned her head to Sam and whispered, "I don't think he likes your plan…"

He frowned back at her.

She grinned in reply.

…

**Washington****, DC**

_Pentagon_

"It's good to see you two are okay," Keller said, holding out a hand as Sam and Chloe walked toward him, hands hooked together.

"Okay's a relative word," she replied, but shook his hand all the same.

Sam nodded at him, shaking his had firmly.

"So is this where we're sworn to secrecy?" Chloe wondered, looking around, brow quirked.

"National Security, Miss. Sullivan… I think _you_, of all people, know the drill…" He stared at her searchingly. "And while the government might one day call on you to help serve your country with those—" He wagged his fingers at her, "Quick little hands of yours. I think for now, we might ask you to keep the hacking to a bare minimum." He hiked his eyebrows meaningfully.

She smiled vaguely. "As long as Gitmo's off my resume, I think I'll be happy to refrain."

"The slate… has been wiped clear," he promised, nodding. "Now…" He clapped his hands together. "What do you two say about a reunion and a little gag order?"

"Reunion…" Sam repeated, brows furrowed.

"I believe… You lost a few people in the kerfuffle?" Keller motioned past them.

An officer opened a door and the bickering of Sam's parents could soon be heard.

"Mom? Dad?" Sam stared on hopefully.

"Sam!" Judy came out the door rapidly. "Sammy!" Spotting him, she rushed forward.

An officer tried to slow her down, but she slapped her hands back at him. "You keep your hands to yourself, mister! I've had about enough of you and this place!" She turned back to her son and shook her head. "What _happened?_" She walked toward him, clucking her tongue. "You're filthy and—Is that _blood?_" She turned her back. "Ron! Our son is _bleeding!_"

"What?" Ron followed after her, glaring at the officers as he made his way over. "You know what? That's just _it_… Oh you better believe there is a strongly worded letter coming out of this!" He waved a hand around. "You've kept us _locked _up for _days! _No phone calls, no information, and our own _son—_" He held his hands out at Sam, "is being treated like _this!_ No. No, that's not okay, all right?"

Laughing under his breath, Sam shook his head and hugged his parents, an arm looped around each of them. "I'm fine. Really."

Yapping drew their attention then, to an officer with a small pet carrier gripped in his hand.

"Mojo!" Sam cried.

Chloe reached out and opened the front, pulling the small Chihuahua free and laughing happily as he licked her face and wagged his tail excitedly.

"Hey, buddy!" Sam said, petting his dog as Chloe held it close to her chest. "How's my little Mojo-monster, huh?" He scrubbed his finger's between the dog's ears. "You lost weight?"

"Emotional stress," Chloe sighed.

"Yeah, or maybe he put on some muscle… Didn't you?" He rested his forehead against Chloe's temple and grinned down at the dog. "You would'a broke out and come saved us, wouldn't you, Mojo?"

He yapped happily back at him, standing up on his hind-legs and waving a paw at Sam.

Judy clasped her hands to her chest. "Oh, Ron, _look… _Sammy's got a girlfriend… For _real_…" she awwed.

"We're stuck in a government prison and he's working on his love life," Ron complained, shaking his head.

"Oh, shut up," she said, slapping his chest lightly. "Look at them…" She rested her head on her husband's shoulder. "You know, it almost makes it worth it…"

"No, it doesn't." He shook his head rapidly. "Judy, do you remember how we were treated? Those suits never left us alone for a minute. And the _silent treatment? _What was _that?_"

Secretary Keller cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "If I could just get you all into the conference room, maybe we could sort some of the confusion out…"

"You better," Ron declared. "'Cause believe you, I have a _lot _of questions…"

"It's all right, dad…" Sam nodded over at him. "We'll explain everything."

Keller waved them along behind him, and soon enough, with Judy and Ron still in shock over the truth and ordered by law to never tell another person anything about it, they were all able to leave the Pentagon and head back home.

…

Ron Witwicky stared on at the red and blue semi truck parked in front of them with much skepticism.

"Ratchet is fixing Bumblebee up," Chloe explained, climbing the support stair leading to the seats inside. "Ironhide is giving Captain Lennox a ride home and, unfortunately, we lost Jazz in the fight…" She patted a hand against the door. "But this is Optimus… Leader of the Autobots…"

"Oh, I've always wanted to drive a semi!" Judy cried excitedly, clapping her hands and hurrying over.

"Ma… Mom, he's an _alien_… He drives _himself_," Sam told her, shaking his head.

Scoffing, she waved him off. "Oh, Ron, can I? Please?"

"You want us to drive home in an _alien _semi truck?" He shook his head, brows furrowed. "Are you _insane?_"

"They're the good kind of alien," Chloe reassured. "Seriously, they saved our bacon a few times…"

"Bacon savers or not…" Ron shook his head. "I'd rather take a regular, American made, _bus_ than—than…" He waved his hands around. "_This_."

"Come on, dad, have faith…" Sam clapped him on his shoulder. "Trust me, all right?" He stared up at him searchingly. "Optimus is the safest ride home you can get…"

"I'm _so _telling Bumblebee," Chloe called out cheerfully.

Sam grumbled at her. "Hey, hey… Confidentiality clause, all right, Sullivan?" He pointed at his eyes and then at her.

She snorted. Rolling her eyes, she yanked open the door and climbed into the passenger seat.

Happily, Judy joined her, slipping into the driver's seat and smoothing her hands over the steering wheel. With a wide grin, she shared, "Oh, this is so _exciting_…"

Chloe chuckled under her breath, raising a brow. "I didn't know you wanted to be a trucker so badly…"

"Oh, well, that too…" She nodded. "But then there's you and _Sam_…" She widened her eyes for emphasis. "Now how long did that take, huh?" She shook her head. "Two years of waiting on you two and it only takes an alien war…" She laughed throatily. "Well if I knew earlier…"

Smiling, Chloe shrugged, shifting in her seat uncomfortably. "Circumstances, I guess…"

She hummed. Turning in her seat, she stared at Chloe. "Now, listen, Chloe, I _like _you… I really, _really _do… But just so we're clear… If you break my little boy's heart…" She smiled scarily. "I will break _you_…" She reached over and squeezed her hand. "Okay?"

More amused than scared, Chloe nodded. "Loud and clear."

"Wonderful." Sitting back, she reached up and pulled the horn, honking at her family still bickering out front and smiling when they flinched in surprise. Rolling down the window, she called out, "Load up or I'm leaving you two behind!" Giggling, she turned back to the steering wheel and then wondered, "How do I turn this on…?"

The engine revved to life.

"Alien," Chloe reminded. "Extremely intelligent alien robot."

Dropping her mouth open in a silent scream of excitement, Judy reached for the steering wheel again. "Let's go home, Mister Optimus!"

When the wheels started turning and the semi began to leave, Sam and Ron suddenly jumped into action, climbing up into the semi as fast as could be. Sam and Chloe moved back into the sleeper cab to sit while Ron tried to tell Judy how to drive. Completely ignoring her husband, she gleefully pulled out onto the road.

"You know, if I didn't know we were in Optimus right now, I think your mother's driving might actually terrify me."

Snorting, Sam bumped her shoulder with his. "Wouldn't blame you."

…

Night had fallen and both Judy and Ron had finally allowed Optimus to take back driving rights to, well, _himself_. Sam's parents had each fallen asleep where they sat. Chloe imagined the stress of the last few days had taken its toll. True, they weren't out battling alien robots and saving the world, but they were parents who didn't know where their son was and had been kept in a holding cell this whole time. She didn't think they slept much and she couldn't blame them. In all honesty, she couldn't remember the last time she'd slept.

Her nerves were still a little shot and she was having a hard time getting comfortable, her bruised ribs flared up every time she moved.

Sam, arms tucked around himself, had fallen asleep with his head resting against the wall behind him.

She watched him for a long moment, still wearing the dirty, torn clothes he'd dressed in Sunday. Despite trying to get cleaned up at a rest stop, there was still dirt on his ear and his hair was matted. Absently, she reached out to wipe it from his ear lobe, gently rubbing it away with her thumb.

He moved slightly but kept sleeping, mumbling something to the affect of, "Leave me alone, mom."

She grinned to herself.

There was hope and affection and a whole lot of confusion still overwhelming her. They'd kind of, sort of, saved the world. They made friends with some aliens. One of which was going to stick around and play friend and guardian to Sam. The others had made a deal with the government to help them with any leftover Decepticon issues, taking refuge on Earth for as long as necessary. And somewhere, in the middle of all that, she and Sam had become… Well… _ChloeandSam_. Like, one entity. A couple. No longer friends, but… something more. And yeah, okay, there were a few times where she felt feelings shifting. Where she thought maybe he was looking at her differently or touching her more. But Chloe had spent so much time trying _not _to analyze a friendship that she wanted to be more that every time they seemed to spring up, she told herself it was her imagination or it was just the situation.

Truth be told, she was still kind of waiting for the bottom to fall out.

They'd gotten together in an adrenaline-fueled rush, between war and relative peace, and some part of her thought that as soon as they got back to Burbank and it all wore off, he'd turn around and realize that he was kind of dating his best friend. Good, ol', faithful Chloe. Sidekick instead of leading lady. Her perpetual place in the world. A worried frown turned her lips down and she turned to stare out at the dark expanse of highway in front of them. What was she supposed to do if that happened? Tell him it was okay and return to being his friend? Stand by him as the Mikaela Banes of the world came and went and he came to the conclusion that Chloe was better meant for friendship? Because, as much and as long as she'd been doing that, and telling herself she was okay with it, she wasn't sure she could anymore.

Sam was special.

And when he kissed her, when he held her hand or made her laugh or even looked at her in that way that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking, she just felt… Complete, in a way. Not in a cheesy, can't live without him kind of way, but a… It was like having everything she needed in life and he was that extra cherry on top. He was what made it all worth it. Even before alien wars and secret government labs. Her day started when Sam Witwicky made an appearance. Her life was better with him in it. And she really, really liked how much better it could be with him as more than just a friend. Because she could take friendship. She might even be able to handle it after the dust settled. But loving him and being loved by him… It all sounded so much better.

"Hey…"

She whirled around at his voice, sleep-laden and deep.

He opened one eye and then yawned, reaching back to rub his face with the back of his hand. "Wha' time's it?"

Digging in her bag, she searched for her cell but came up empty handed. "I don't know…" She looked out the front window again. "It's dark, so… _Late?_"

He half-smiled. "Observant…" Licking his lips, he rested his eyes at half-mass.

"I try."

He raised a brow slightly. "You okay?"

She frowned, nodding. "I am… Just…" She shook her head. "Still reeling."

Nodding, he blinked his eyes a few more times to stay awake. "You were great out there…" He nudged her foot with his. "Couldn't do it without you."

She gave a faint, brittle smile. "Sidekick's my middle name," she offered, turning her eyes off.

His brows furrowed. "What happened to Tomb Raider?"

She looked back. "Hm?"

"Badass, kickass, one-woman-hero…" He stared up at her. "That's how I see you…" He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You don't need the braid or the shorts, Chloe…" He shook his head slightly. "You don't even need a leading man, but…" He shrugged. "I… I meant what I said, y'know?" He scratched his ear awkwardly. "Mikaela and all that… I…" He shook his head. "I'm over that… I-I _was _over it, before we even left Burbank, I just…" He cleared his throat. "You're always gonna be my best friend… Burbank, Metropolis, wherever you are, but I was… I mean, I'm kind of hoping maybe this— U-Us…" He waved his hands around. "We could… see… where this, uh… goes…" He nodded, brows hiked. "If—If you wanna…"

Chloe stared at him a long second. "You're _completely _over Mikaela?"

He nodded rapidly. "Totally. I—It's over. It—Never started, never will, don't want it to."

"And this isn't just because we survived near-death together or anything…?" She raised a brow.

"Adrenaline wore off, still really hoping I get to kiss you in the near future, so no… Not near-death related…"

Her lips twitched. "And you're _sure_, if, for whatever reason, we don't work out… We still remain friends."

"Absolutely. If it happens—" He paused, pointed, "_Big_ if…" He nodded. "Then, yeah, we can share custody of Miles and you can have visitation rights to Mojo," he offered.

She laughed. "Appreciate it."

He half-grinned. "So…?" His eyes darted wonderingly, hopefully.

"Oh, for… Throw the boy a bone, Chloe," Ron interrupted from the front seat.

Sam's face fell. "_Dad!_"

"You're ruining their _moment_," Judy complained.

"Mom!" he exclaimed, burying his face in his hands and groaning.

Laughing, Chloe shook her head. "I love your family," she told him.

Lifting his head, he stared up at her. "Enough to give me a chance still?"

She smiled warmly. "Air hockey this weekend… It's a date."

He grinned. "You're going down this time, Chloe… I've been perfecting my block, okay?"

"Uh-huh," she said, dismissively.

"Seriously…" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her into his side, all the while talking smack about how he'd win.

And while Chloe was pretty sure she'd wipe the floor with him, like usual, she also found that here, leaning into him as she was, was the perfect angle. Her ribs didn't hurt. Listening to Sam's voice, his arm warm around her, his heartbeat echoing in her ears, Chloe finally fell asleep.

Sam, noticing she'd nodded off, just grinned. Resting his head back against the wall, he silently cheered at his good fortune. Sure, it wasn't easy, but his life was finally coming together. He didn't think it could get any better than this.

[**Next**: Epilogue.]


	10. Epilogue

**Title**: Transformers: Heroic Hearts  
><strong>Category<strong>: Smallville/Transformers  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Humor/Action/Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Chloe Sullivan/Sam Witwicky  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Giant spoilers, violence, strong language, sexuality  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Whole chunks of the movie Transformers (2007) were rewritten here for coherence, so any of those who haven't seen the movies would be able to understand. I take no credit for any parts recognizable to the brand or the movies themselves.  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 811  
><strong>Overall Status<strong>: Complete  
><strong>Summary<strong>: (AU) All Sam wanted was a car and the girl of his dreams. He gets both; only neither are who or what he expected.

**_Transformers: Heroic Hearts_**  
>-Novel-<p>

**Epilogue**.

**Washington****, DC**  
><em>Pentagon<em>

Teleconferencing with the joint Chiefs of Staff, Secretary Keller informed them, "Gentlemen, the President has ordered Sector Seven… be _terminated_. And the _remains _of the dead aliens… _disposed _of. The Laurentian Abyss is _seven miles_ below sea level; deepest place on our planet. The massive depth and pressure there, coupled with subfreezing temperatures, would crush and entomb them… Leaving no evidence."

…

**Burbank****, California**

When Sam walked into school that day, he felt a little weird. All around him, students were going about their daily lives like nothing was different; nothing had changed. And here he was feeling like _everything _was different and _so much _had changed…

Aliens existed...

One was his _car!_

And the world had very nearly come to some crazy, fiery end just, well, _yesterday_…

Miles nodded at him casually from where he stood trying to dislodge his Math book from its precarious position beneath a whole lot of junk. Various jocks passed by him laughing, sure to shoulder-check him as they went. Mikaela Banes walked down the center of the hallway, directly toward him, smiling.

He glanced over his shoulder briefly, wondering if Trent was just behind him, probably about to play some hilarious prank that would make him even _less _popular.

But Trent wasn't there and so Sam turned back in confusion.

"Hey…" Mikaela stopped in front of him, her eyes a brighter blue than he'd ever seen. She quirked her head, her raven hair falling gently over her shoulder. "It's Sam, right? _Witwicky…?_"

Sam scratched the side of his neck and shook his head ever so slightly. Talk about timing…

"No…" He half-smiled faintly. "No, I, uh, think you're thinking of someone else…" Walking past her, he waved behind him vaguely in goodbye. He grinned to himself, feeling none of that overwhelming eagerness he once had when Mikaela so much as glanced _near_ him, and relief hit him like a welcomed flood. It was really over. All those years spent chasing after her and he was finally free.

A door thrust open and Chloe backed out of it into the busy hall. "I _said _I would have a story, and I _will_… Just give me two more days!"

The boy inside barked back, "You've been missing _half _the week!"

"So what's two more days?" She rolled her eyes and swatted the door closed. As she turned back around, she found Sam standing there. "Oh. Hey!" she greeted, grinning widely.

Smiling in return, he replied, "Hey…" and held a hand out to her.

She glanced down once before taking it, her lips curling at the corners.

He tugged her into his side, sliding her arm around his waist while he wrapped his over her shoulders. "So I'm thinking I might take all of Great-Great-Grampa Archibald's stuff off E-Bay…"

"Yeah?" She looked up at him, raising her hand to weave their fingers together. "Worried _ladiesman217 _might get a few more alien hits or…?" she trailed off wonderingly, brow hiked.

"No," he chuckled. "But he was an explorer and he made some pretty serious discoveries…" He nodded, scratching his chin. "And with everything that happened, I think I've got a new respect for that…"

"Good." She nodded. "But those glasses are mine and I'm going to have to charge you double…"

He scoffed. "_Double?_"

"Hey…" She shrugged. "Never show your cards first…" She flashed her eyebrows at him. "You're sentimental and I've got what you want, it's only good business…"

Laughing lightly, he hugged her in closer. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

Nodding with her, he bent and pressed his lips to hers, slow and firm. In between kisses, he said, "Maybe… we can work out… a payment plan…?"

She stared up at him, their foreheads pressed together, and licked her lips. "I'm listening…"

He was still grinning as he slanted his mouth across hers again.

No regrets.

Not for buying Bumblebee instead of a car a little less advanced alien technology.

Not for the insane near-death experiences that followed.

And definitely not for realizing that the girl for him had always been right there at his side the whole time.

Sam Witwicky could proudly say he had it all.

…

Optimus stood on a cliff side, head raised to the sky.

"_With the All Spark gone, we cannot return life to our planet. And fate has yielded its reward: A new world to call home. _

_We live among its people now, hiding in plain sight, but watching over them in secret, waiting, protecting._

_I have witnessed their capacity for courage. And though we are worlds apart, like us, there's more to them than meets the eye. _

_I am Optimus Prime. And I send this message to any surviving Autobots taking refuge among the stars. _

_We are here. _

_We... are waiting._"

…

Retreating from earth, shooting off into space, Starscream vowed in Cybertronian, "_I'll be back!_"

[**End.**]

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I'd just like to thank everybody who read and reviewed for this story. I appreciated everything you had to say, your enthusiasm, and your eagerness to see what might happen next. As of right now, I have not yet begun the second movie, but I do have plans to write it up, as well as the third. There is no set time line as to when I will have it out, but as I did with this one, I'd like to finish it before I start posting. In the meantime, I hope to have a few oneshots out involving the time period between the first and second movie, focusing on Sam and Chloe's relationship, as well as her friendship with Bumblebee and Mojo! So keep an eye out for those in the near future. With that, I bid adieu to 2011 and hello to 2012. Happy New Years to everybody, I hope this last one was a good one and the next will be even better!

Love,  
>~Lee<p> 


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